


Stitches

by TheBookDragon42



Category: Outlander (TV)
Genre: Anger, Attempted Sexual Assault, Betrayal, Dangerous Situations, Difficult Decisions, F/M, Fear, Fighting, Gen, Healing, Jamie Fraser is so hot, Kissing?, Longing, Love?, Lust, Multi, Scars, Time Travel, Violence, World War Three, kick ass lead, powers, questions of loyalty, rescuing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2020-11-28 11:41:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 26
Words: 83,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20965979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBookDragon42/pseuds/TheBookDragon42
Summary: Healer Arcadia Hark is cold, hard, and reserved. Too much of her life has been taken from her, but her currently life is all she knows anymore. In the war for the remaining natural resources, she is sent into the forefront of No Man's Land, where she must save and heal the soldiers who come into her tent broken and torn. These wounds are not ordinary, but of course, neither are all the soldiers. Over time, human began to evolve, change, and mutate to accommodate the changing environment.One such evolution ends up being the one thing no one was prepared for.Hurled back in time, Arcadia faces a new battle. A battle to survive in a time that is not her own.





	1. Arcadia Hark

**Author's Note:**

> This story is loosely based on Diana Gabaldon's Outlander series. Instead of the main character Claire, I have invented a new character, Arcadia, to take her place. Time and settings are explained. Some names of characters are my own, but the others belong to Gabaldon's Outlander series (Jamie, Dougal, Angus, William, etc...) 
> 
> I haven't posted anything of mine before on a platform like this, so any constructive feedback, or comments are much appreciated. Still working on this story, as well as a few others, so please bear with me! 
> 
> Thank you kindly.

In a time of war, on-going and seemingly never ending, a doctor is always in short supply. Stitchers, as they are called now, however have begun developing new abilities to aid in their craft. They are extremely valuable to either side, but unfortunately some decided to make a profit of it. The rich could afford the best Stitchers, while the poor depended on the goodness of their hearts to receive care. Governments employ as many as they can, on either side, in order to save their armies.

Many Stitchers are not left defenseless, however, as per the Government in Maranica decreed. All persons who were to become in-field Stitchers were required to have the same training as the military. Maranica used to be the Federation of the Upper States, which had previously been the United States, until all hell broke loose and World War IV begin.

World War III was fought between everyone for the last remaining resources of clean water. All matters of organization disintegrated after that, and no independent power could hold it for long. Currently, Maranica and Noviasia (previously known as Novis Oceanic Triad, and even further back, Asia) are the combating forces over the power supplies and remaining water centers. Their struggle to assert their own legislation upon the world, however, is more for sport than actual necessity. World War III also led to the growing populous of mutations. With the war on water, humans had to adapt enough to survive, although not everyone did not quickly enough. The mutations began slowly, hastened with the aid of nuclear bombs and chemical reactions throughout the world. Most of the people who had mutations were either killed off because of their abnormalities, or found refuge in place that accepted and encouraged the changes.

It wasn’t long before those changes were coveted by government officials, and sought after during conceptions. Thus began the governmentally sanctioned genetic trans-mutations on a global scale, some countries developing the mutations faster than others, producing weapons.

Stitchers are among those that are uniquely gifted in the populous of the world, and unfortunately are only possible through natural selection and birth. Any and all attempts to manufacture healing capabilities in a mutated specimen failed, with the subject either failing to thrive during conception or dying shortly after birth. Those of the populous that remained mainly human, namely those without apparent abilities, are the only ones who can conceive Stitchers. And because of this, not all of them are documented, or even develop their abilities to the level of a Stitcher. Therefore, there is an active search for such beings around the globe, and if they are found, they are brought to a government facility, where they are trained in doctoral practices and combat. Usually, the government finds younger Stitchers, around the ages of 8 and 10, through gossip and news reports consisting of key words such as “miraculous”, or “powerful”. They go in, collect the child, and remove them from their homes for the purpose of helping the government.

Arcadia Hark is a Stitcher. When she was 6 years old, her powers manifested quickly and strongly. Her mother, Suzaina Hark decided to hide Arcadia, so as to protect her from a life of death and hardship. She took Arcadia into the outskirts of civilization, where they managed to live for three years off the land. It was difficult and at times almost impossible. Since WWIII, all the fresh water had been collected for preservation in large factories in the center of each continent, scientists and conservationists working together to maintain the water levels at a sustainable measure. Thus, living off the land was far more life threatening than one could imagine. Suzaina did have help from inside their old city, but it wasn’t everyday that they could help her. Yet, Suzaina persisted, helping Arcadia learn and cultivate her abilities, using her own ancient knowledge of the body and what is needed. Among the few personal items they brought with them was an old book, which Arcadia’s mother called _maskihkiya masinahikan_, and it had been in her family for generations. It was a book of ancient medicine and the art of healing. Arcadia always thought that it was old witchcraft, spells that needed words and earth to function, unlike the technology that she had grown up with. Suzaina told Arcadia stories that had been passed down from mother to daughter for generations, all of which led back to the ancient culture of the First Nations people. “We are Cree,” she explained when Arcadia was around 7 years old. “Long ago, far older than any of these wars today or even 1000 years ago, our people lived with this land, breathed and died with this land. We were one with the Mother and we lived in her bounty. But then white men and their love of violence spread through the world like a disease and tore up the Mother until she had nothing left.” Suzaina always gestured to the surrounding landscape, dry and lifeless, in order to cement her point. “How we have survived this long is against nature, and yet, we persist. We continue to survive even at the end of all things.”

Arcadia listened to her mother’s teachings, and kept her stories locked in her mind. She loved her mother greatly, and the time they spent together, living as hard as they did. A few days after her ninth birthday, Arcadia remembered seeing her mother rush into their little house from outside, terrified. The only reason why her mother would be so scared was if the government had found them and were there to take her away.

“Mom?” Arcadia whispered.

Suzaina had looked at her daughter with tear filled eyes, trying to figure out what to do. They couldn’t run, there was nowhere to go. They couldn’t fight, because they would most likely kill both of them, or at the very least kill her. So, shaking off her despair, Suzaina pulled Arcadia into her arms and hugged her tightly.

“I love you, my _wapanahkosis_. Keep all our stories close to your heart, and I will always be there. Here is where we must part ways, even though I don’t want to leave you. After today, I need you to keep going, ok? I need you to be – I need you to keep going. No matter what.” She shook Arcadia’s shoulders a bit before hugging her tightly once again. “I love you forever, and forever again.”

The tears rolled down her face, hot and salty as they fell down her cheeks and into the corners of her mouth. Arcadia was crying as well. She didn’t want to leave her mother, but her mother had said that this day could come, and it had.

“My brave girl. My _wapanahkosis_.” She brushed Arcadia’s hair back like she did every day, smoothing down her black hair, and resting her hand on her cheek. “We will see each other again, in this life or the next, I promise you.”

Arcadia remembered every detail of their separation. “My snowbird”, her mother always called her a snowbird, although Arcadia didn’t know what that was. She held onto the word like a life line as she was escorted from the house, ripped away from her mother and hoisted into a truck. She remembered screaming for her mother to come with them, remembered seeing her mother’s face frozen in defeat, her sadness washing over her as her daughter was taken away. She remembered seeing her mother raise her hand towards her, as if reaching for her once more. Arcadia remembered her throat being hoarse from screaming so hard when she heard the gun shot.

For taking her daughter and hiding her away, Suzaina was labelled a traitor, and the warrant for her death had a high reward. Someone inside the city had learned of their location and had turned them in. Her mother falling to the dirt flashed in her mind, forever seared into the back of her eyelids. A memory she could never forget, a memory that she would never forgive.

Arcadia had been taken to a training facility in the city, where she was left to rest and recuperate after the trip from the Outskirts. She had been vicious and difficult, hitting and biting at everyone and anyone who came near her, still crying and screaming hours after her mother’s murder. It took five people to subdue her long enough to sedate her. She awoke hours later, heartbroken and tired, to the face of her new commanding officer, who initiated her into the Stitcher program and showed her to her barracks. The officer gave her a pack full of things that she would need while she was there, but also a few things that they had gathered for her from her home. One of those things was her mother’s medicine book. Why they decided to give that to Arcadia, she didn’t know, but she was secretly grateful for the small piece of her mother.

Hardened by her loss, Arcadia remained silent when she woke up in that facility, and seldom spoke ever again.


	2. Meeting Dannick Myett

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of Arcadia's background. Arcadia goes through training, and builds a reputation. She is matched with a partner, a protector, named Dannick Myett. He is the only one in a number of years to build a strong friendship with her. He is also the only person who Arcadia tolerates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note, graphic violence and mentions of rape are in this chapter. It passes quickly, but can be uncomfortable for some readers. If you do not like to read about such things, please do not read this one. For a short summary of the chapter without the rape content, please see the end notes.

As her training began, Arcadia’s abilities as a healer were already astonishing. She quickly became the best of the Stitchers there, both in the medical practices as well as the combative ones. She was a fast learner and was extremely focused. Through monitoring and testing, the scientists determined that Arcadia’s abilities allowed her to assess her patient, diagnose the problem and determine how to fix it in under 20 seconds. Once the problem is diagnosed, she is able to manipulate the body of the patient into healing at an exponentially faster rate than any human standard. Visually, nothing extraordinary happens, but the scientists realized through infrared vision, the air around Arcadia pulses and glows as she literally pulls the pieces of her patients back together. It is horribly painful work, however, and is quite taxing for both Arcadia and her patients. She even managed to bring some people back from the edge of death through her healing, but her energy and vitals dropped so severely, that her scientists and other physicians ordered her never to use too much of her Stitching unless absolutely necessary.

Not many Stitchers had the ability to heal at the level Arcadia could, which made Arcadia very popular for the government. Luckily, her reputation as a vicious fighter earned her peace when it came to other initiates. They left her alone unless they were told to work with her, and when they did, she worked with them without complaint or speaking in any way. She used hand gestures and movement to get her needs addressed, but never spoke unless she had to.

While at the facility, the initiates were warned of the dangers of being a Stitcher in the case of their abilities being used against them or in the attempted to help themselves. Some Stitchers are able to heal themselves, but such power needed tremendous amounts of energy, outside resource and time. If a Stitcher used too much of their own power to heal themselves, it could affect their ability to heal others afterward. The most useful example was a Stitcher named Lerad Hennings. He healed himself after he suffered from a serious wound from a whistling thorn, a type of bomb that emitted a high pitched whistling sound a moment before hitting the target. Once it hit its intended target, there was little one could do after all the damage that followed. Highly effective and deadly. Lerad had not been the target, but had been standing next to it, and suffered so greatly that had he not healed himself, he would have died before any other Stitcher could arrive. It came at a great cost, however, as he was unable to heal another patient afterwards and was driven mad from the phantom pain he experienced daily. He later killed himself.

Healing themselves was also a way for their enemies to torture captured Stitchers. By making the torture unbearable and life-threatening, enemy soldiers would force Stitchers to heal themselves over and over to the point where they were no longer Stitchers. Since Stitchers are rare and hard to come by, especially highly skilled ones, and so with the dwindling amount over the entire world, people have had to relying on regular medical doctors for healing and life-saving, which as it was 200-300 years ago was sufficient to save lives, but not enough for the on-going war.

And so, the government took action to prevent abductions of Stitchers, and implemented a Protectors program. One Protector is assigned to each Stitcher in order to protect them far any harm and or capture. It was necessary to pair up the Protectors with the Stitchers who would be most compatible with each other, in order to ensure cohesiveness and trust. Usually, once a Stitcher is identified and brought to the facility, they are matched within a few days or a week to their Protector and they both begin training together.

Arcadia, however, never matched well with anyone, simply because no one could talk to her or even want to, no matter how firmly they were commanded. Over the course of three months, Arcadia had seen six Protectors, all of whom left to be matched with other people. As a result of her incompatibility, she remained Protector-less for a long while. It wasn’t until her 14th birthday that she was given a new Protector, and to the happiness of the government, it was a match that stuck. Dannick Myett, 15 years old, was a highly skilled Scout, an ability that allowed him to detected trouble from a fair distance away, both spatial and time. It took the government a while to find him because he could always evade their capture. It wasn’t until the government developed a specified cloaking device that they were able to apprehend him and bring him to the facility. It was the same commanding officer that brought in Arcadia who decided to pair them up, seeing how they were so similar in their dislike of the government protocols and vision.

It was clear, though, after only a few short weeks that Arcadia and Dannick were meant to be together. They learned each other’s movements and every thought, as if they were bonded mentally. They quickly became one of the best teams at the facility, as if they were one being. Neither of them spoke much, but when they did, it was only out of necessity. At least, in public. On occasion, they would meet together, whether it was to spar or go over tactical training, they would discuss things with one another. It was slow at first, since neither of them trusted the other very much, but they did eventually open up to one another. Arcadia told Dannick about her mother, and the short time they had together in the desert. Dannick told Arcadia about his family, how they were abusive to him because of his abilities since none of them had any. His father was terrifying, and his mother despised him, so he ran away when he was 13 and lived from place to place, living in squalor, stealing food to eat and clothes to wear. He managed to survive two years on his own, and stay away from the government for longer. Any time his parents tried to hand him over to the authorities, he could hide and make it nearly impossible for anyone to find him.

They became trusted friends over the years, caring deeply for one another and being there always. As her Protector, Dannick was designated to Scout ahead of any and all missions, report back to Headquarters and return with Arcadia into the field of battle. Once there, he was in charge of her well -being. And in turn, it was her responsibility to heal him quickly and efficiently if he was ever injured. Seeing the two of them was like watching the same person, walking in stride, silent but effective in battle. Both of them were skilled in combat and whenever they sparred together, it was a miracle that they didn’t kill each other.

The first time Arcadia was captured while in the field of battle, she had been waiting for new orders on the edge of the battlement in southern Maranica. Dannick and a few others had been sent ahead to Scout for new developments, and the rest of the squad remained at the base camp. The assailants were quick, some people called them Blurs because of their incredible speed. One in particular had managed to catch Arcadia off guard and knock her out. When she came to, her arms were tied up above her head, her Stitcher’s pack taken and she was left vulnerable. It was then that Arcadia received her first scars. She was seventeen at the time. She had been held for 14 days in an enemy camp. The leader of the enemy camp demanded that she give them information about her government, about herself, and pretty much anything else. She remained silent, refusing to answer any question, even her own name. Each time she refused, one of her captors whipped her back, drawing blood and forcing tears to her eyes. Never once did she cry out though, but gritted her teeth until her jaw hurt or she passed out. They used electrocution to shock and torture her, all the while asking her question over and over. One of the assailants decided to take matters into his own hands and raped her several times in order to make her talk, or even to scream. His strategy failed, however. She did not scream, or did she answer any of this questions, but she did vow that once she was free that she would kill him. He laughed at her, stating that she would die well before she was ever freed. In response, she simply smiled. The torture and assaults continued for days, and at the time Arcadia had no idea how long she had been held captive. She was exhausted and after a while, she began to feel more and more close to death, and willingly so. She was done being tortured, done being raped, and wanted to sleep.

Then one day, suddenly numerous booms were heard above her head. Those who were ordered to guard her went on high alert and were clearly panicked. Arcadia’s hope soared in her chest as she forced herself to wake up. There were muffled shouts and gunshots, and more explosions. One of the captors returned to her prison cell and was planning to kill her, gun raised and aimed, but before they could do anything, three shots tore through their chest and they slumped to the ground. Arcadia looked up and saw Dannick’s face rushing up to her. She felt her body sag with relief, and for the first time in fourteen days, she cried. Once Dannick cut her bonds at both her feet and her hands, he held onto her gingerly, careful not to hurt her as much as he could. His heart broke at the sight of her, bleeding and bruised. Some of the cuts on her back were fresh, slowly dripping blood onto the floor, while others were healing badly, oozing infectious pus and blackening. Carefully, he grabbed a small blanket from his pack and wrapped it around her. She whimpered in pain as the cloth touched her skin and her entire body shook.

“I have her.” Dannick said into his speaker.

“_Then grab her and let’s go! I want to get out of here.” _A voice answered on the other end.

“I’m gonna need a Stitcher. She’s in – She’s in really bad shape.” His voice broke at that moment, the words constricted in his throat.

“I’m here Arcadia. By the stars, I’m here.” He whispered hoarsely, gently cradling her body against his.

Arcadia gave no reply, but held onto his arms as tightly as she could.

Soon, someone entered the cell and proceeded to Stitch Arcadia enough to get them out. He wasn’t a very good Stitcher, but he managed to ease her pain and give her enough energy to be able to walk out of the compound. Before they left, Arcadia saw some of the enemy troops lined up outside, hands raised in surrender. She stood stock still as she saw the man who had raped her. He was standing in the middle of the line, head bowed to avoid looking at anyone, but Arcadia recognized him instantly. She felt her blood begin to boil, her wrath rising in her throat like fire.

“Give me your gun Dan.” Arcadia said quietly. It wasn’t a question or a request, and by the way she said it, Dannick knew better than to refuse. He handed the gun to her, and watched as she slowly turned and walked over to the line of troops.

Outwardly, Arcadia looked calm, even nonchalant despite the pain she was in. But when the rapist glanced up and saw her approaching, he saw the anger in her eyes and realized in his core that he was a dead man. She came to stand directly in front of him. He began to visibly shake with fear. Clearly, he did not want to die, and his heart rate spiked as she raised the gun. Cocking her head to the side, she fired one shot into his foot. He cried out in pain and stumbled. In quick succession, she shot his knee on the other side, forcing him to kneel on the other already injured side, shot his thigh, his gut, his hand and then the other. Each time, he cried out in agony.

Once he was on his back, unable to stay upright any longer, Arcadia walked forward and loomed over him. She looked down at him, smirked with no real emotion and sighed.

“Told you.”

She emptied the magazine into his face, until he was no longer recognizable. She counted as she pulled the trigger: fourteen bullets. His body twitched and writhed as the nerves in his brain were severed until he was still.

It was so silent in the compound; everyone was scared to breathe. It was uncommon for Stitchers to be outwardly violent, their combat skills used only when necessary.

Arcadia turned away from the lifeless corpse on the ground and walked toward Dannick.

“Get me out of here.” She said curtly. She could feel her energy waning, and she needed to be tended to by another Stitcher.

Dannick nodded and ushered her out of the compound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who do not wish to read about the hardships of rape or graphic violence:
> 
> Arcadia suffered trauma as a Stitcher, where she was put into a situation that prevented Dannick from protecting her like he usually would have. It was violent and horrible, and unfortunately made Arcadia even more reserved and hard as a person, but she did get her revenge and just deserts against her assailants and enemies, and was taken care of by Dannick once she was rescued.


	3. Team Whiskey and Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In light of the compound incident, Teams were put in place to try and reduce the amount of captures of Stitchers. Arcadia and Dannick slowly learn to trust their own Team, and things are ok for a bit.  
Until it isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Thank you kindly.

A few months after the compound incident, Dannick made it his mission to make sure that Arcadia would be safe. So he hounded the government officials to do something about it. Fairly quickly, mainly because their best Stitcher had been out of commission for months, but also wasn’t going back to work in general, they introduced Teams. The idea behind teams was that it would be comprised of mainly evolved soldiers, Scouts, Tacticians, and of course one or two Stitchers. Dannick had been satisfied with the changes, and managed to convince Arcadia to follow suit. The only stipulation that they both had was that they chose their own team and team leader.

After several attempts and meetings, Arcadia and Dannick had their team. Jasper Cane, evolved Tactician, was chosen as their team leader. He was brilliant and foreboding, and didn’t take shit from anyone. Tacticians were imbued with electrical powers, some even going so far as to become hybrids, part human, part cyborgs. It provided them an advantage with their powers against enemies. Cane, however, didn’t need to be part cyborg, despite the many attempts by the government to convince him otherwise. He was powerful enough on his own, which is why he was transferred from across the Dry Lands to their facility especially for Arcadia and Dannick’s team. Then they met Fox, a highly skilled weapons specialist and Scavenger. A Scavenger was able to find anything that could be used as a tool or weapon. Fox, who had not given any other name, however, was a rarity even by Scavenger standards. She could manipulate the ground to provide her missing elements, particularly metals and minerals. She didn’t use it very often, but she was brilliant in a pinch. Argo McKleon was a Hulk, and skilled with the mechanics of Tacticians, and general engines of jets and cars. She was brought on as the muscle that would help Scouts in particular, as they can flatten pretty much anything in their way. And their final team member had been brought back from the Far South Schism, Henry Kam. He was the communications expert, what the general public call Talkers, and his ability was to speak with anyone within 500 km from him within his mind. It was ideal in a mission, so no unnecessary equipment was brought with them, nor time wasted. It was instant and clear, and a coveted skill.

It took a while for Arcadia to warm up to any of them at first, but it was made clear to her fairly quickly that they were all equally unwilling to speak or interact with one another. Cane provided the strength in leadership that was forceful but fair, and no one disobeyed. They slowly began working with one another, Arcadia slowly joining in once she was fully healed physically.

It wasn’t until Arcadia woke up in the barracks they all shared screaming in terror that they truly bonded. Dannick was by her side in a flash, trying to snap her out of the dream and console her. Cane had turned on the lights and was by the door, watching for any guards that may come in at the disturbance, while Fox, Argo brought extra blankets for Arcadia, and Kam brought her a glass of liquid. No one said anything, except Dannick who was trying to sooth her, and there were no judgments.

Each of them had experienced their own traumas, and understood what Arcadia needed. They didn’t coddle her, but they didn’t leave her alone to handle it on her own. For a while after a particularly bad dream, each member of the team took turns being with her, for support or whatever she needed at the time, they provided. No one forced her to speak, no pushed, just provided silent support.

Cane, however, was the first one to open up to her about his past trauma. He didn’t explain too much, but just gave a general overview of what happened. And how, every so often, he also has flashbacks and dreams that make his heart race and his body break out into a cold sweat. Arcadia listened quietly, watching him carefully as he spoke. It had just been the two of them in the sparring ring, the sounds of fists hitting bags filling in the emptiness around Cane’s story. When he was finished, Arcadia simply nodded. They looked at each other for a long moment, and then went back to the barracks to clean up for dinner.

Slowly, others opened up, and it was done in a more open and general space, so that everyone learned a bit about each other. To an outsider, their conversations never lasted more than a few minutes, ten at most. The way they were all so tense, and closed off, it didn’t seem that they liked each other. But to their own circle, their team, they respected each other and supported each other the only way they knew how, or at least, in a way that they _could_ provide.

*******

It was a year later when everything changed.

During one of the rare resting periods between missions, Arcadia and Dannick would hang around the barracks with their team. Other teams would be around, milling about and chatting with each other. They mostly avoided Arcadia’s team, mainly because they were considered a scary group devoid of emotions.

During these resting periods, most of the soldiers were waiting for bad news, others were waiting to call their loved ones, if they had any. A select few would normally joke around and play small hand games, gambling for duties within their teams, like barrack cleaning, weapons repair, or the like.

Although Arcadia still didn’t like to speak much, Dannick was able to convince her to open up a bit in order to make a few acquaintances. Ever since they had created their team, he had been more open to making friends, at least a few acquaintances who were not entirely afraid of hanging around their team. He was the only person in the world, aside from her mother, who was able to make her smile. His snarky and sarcastic statements made him bearable to Arcadia, and she truly loved their friendship.

On that particular day, one of Dannick’s acquaintances, who was also friends with Fox, asked if Dannick and Arcadia were together romantically. Both Arcadia and Dannick looked at one another and Dannick burst out laughing. Arcadia chuckled slightly, shaking her head.

“Us? Are you kidding?” Dannick said, shaking his head which still had a smirk on it. He folded his arms across his chest. “She’s terrifying, and I am barely her friend. I’m her Protector and so I’m sworn to be by her side forever.” He continued, turning his head to wink at Arcadia.

Arcadia shook her head, “No, we aren’t together romantically. He’s too small.” She deadpanned.

Laughter broke out around the entire hall as Dannick’s face bloomed red with embarrassment. Even Cane grinned wolfishly.

“Hey! I’m not small, Hark! You just can’t handle all this.” He said, gesturing to his entire body as he began to parade around the room.

“I’m not sure anyone would want to, I mean, look how scrawny you are.” Argo chimed in.

“Atten-tion!” a loud voice called out, cutting off the loud laughter that filled the room immediately.

There was a quick shuffle of feet darting up to stand at attention. In less than five seconds, everyone was looking forward from their beds, silent and obedient. Arcadia and Dannick stood near each other, both heart rates increasing. Another mission, being given by the General of the camp. Arcadia knew immediately that it was going to be important, but whether they would be privy to the details would be another matter entirely.

“At ease.”

In unison, everyone in the barrack planted their feet at ease. But there was still tension in the air. It was general knowledge that when orders are given by the General instead of a Corporal, serious shit was going down.

“Teams Delta and Echo in Centrolia have issued a distress call. Team Kilo and Whiskey will be flying out in two hours to back them up. May the stars guide your path to the end. Dismissed.” The General ordered and left the room as quickly as they had entered.

It was quick order that no one could question. Arcadia and Dannick were Team Whiskey. They moved quickly, gathering their packs from their place on the wall, got dressed into their uniforms and were out the door in less than 20 minutes.

Cane went to speak with the Corporal for more information about their deployment, while everyone else loaded their things and necessary weaponry on their convoy plane. Cane returned, and briefed the team on their role in the backup situation.

“And Dannick will scout ahead with one of the mercenaries.” The tone in Cane’s voice seemed final.

Arcadia was waiting for the moment when she was told that she would be going with him. “Cane?” she asked.

“Arcadia, you will remain behind with the base team and wait for others to return for Stitching.”

“No.” She replied firmly.

“Your job is to Stitch people.”

“There are other Stitchers. I go with my Protector.” Arcadia crossed her arms and waited for Cane to break under her will, as he often did. But this time, his heartbeat was steady and constant, which made Arcadia nervous.

“I go with my Protector.” She repeated.

“I have direct orders from the Commander that you are to remain behind and Stitch those who come in.” Cane said, again, his tone had a finality to it.

Instead of arguing, Arcadia remained silent. The Commander had ordered her role directly. She looked at Dannick, who was visibly confused, but as subordinates, they could not object Cane’s – or the Commander’s – orders.

They boarded the craft shortly after and departed from Northern Maranica for southern Centrolia. Centrolia used to be United Kingdom of Europe, the center of power more commonly known as Great Britain at one time. Their mission was farther south and dangerously close to the borders of No Man’s land. It took a few hours to reach their destination, all the while it was silent in the craft. Dannick used his abilities to scout out the course of their journey, and everyone few minutes or so Arcadia could see Dannick tense, then relax as each possible outcome changed the closer we got. It was interesting to see his ability in action, something that Arcadia never got tired of watching. It gave her a sense of peace, despite being part of the most dangerous war the world has ever seen.

***********

A few days after they arrived, Dannick, a few other Scouts, and a Stitcher were preparing to head out for their mission. Despite her protests, Arcadia had not been privileged to go on the mission or to know what it was, and it bothered her greatly. She especially hated that an under experienced Stitcher was going with them. But her rebuttals were ignored and she was threatened with court marshals. Finally, Dannick managed to calm her enough to get her to agree to stand by.

As Dannick was clipping his pack closed, preparing to go, Arcadia stood still in front of him. He looked up at her, both silently communicating what both were feeling. This mission was different than any other, and both of them knew it.

Straightening, Dannick stepped around his pack to face Arcadia, standing close but not touching.

“I’ll be back, you know.” He murmured.

Arcadia nodded once.

The silent between them lasted for a few moments more, before Arcadia looked away. She had never felt this nervous before a mission, particularly one where she was not included.

“In one piece.” Arcadia said finally.

He nodded, sighed slightly, “By the stars, Arcadia, I will come back in one piece.”

He reached out his arm towards her slightly, and she clasped his wrist tightly. While touching him, Arcadia sent a bit of extra energy throughout his body to make his sharp and ready for anything. Dannick did not react, as she did that all the time, especially before missions.

“By the stars, Dannick, I’ll kill you otherwise.” She said gently, a hint of a smile on her lips.

He smirked. They released arms, and Dannick turned to pick up his pack.

“Three days. That’s all.” Dannick said, turning back to her once more.

“Three days.”

**

It was not three days.

**

By the fifth day, Arcadia had made a large hole in the wall of the Stitchers barrack, having punched it so many times. Thankfully, another Stitcher would fix her hand each time she ended up breaking it. Every few hours, Arcadia would go to the command building and demand an update on the Scouts. All communications were down and they still had not heard anything. She asked Kam to try Talking to Dannick, but each time Kam tried, he was hit with a wall of silence. He explained that Dannick was either out of range, or something had happened. Arcadia deeply hoped it was because he was out of range.

Some time later, there was a sudden ignition of movement along the borders of the camp. Arcadia watched as the guards on the outposts called out orders to have the doors opened to let people in. This was the first time in five days that anyone had returned, whether from the original team, or her own.

Arcadia called out to the other Stitchers to get ready for intake. They all moved in practiced unison, ready for an onslaught of injured, or worse.

As the injured came to the Stitchers’ building, Arcadia assessed the damage and sent them to certain Stitchers with skill suited for that healing. There were about twenty people admitted into the building, with about another twenty waiting outside. Something big had happened, and either these people managed to get out in time, or they were rescued and given direction. Arcadia had an inkling that it had something to do with Dannick.

It was during one shift of patients that Arcadia saw one of mercenaries that was with Dannick’s scouting mission. She walked over to her quickly and Stitched her enough to wake up from her wounds.

With a howl, she woke up. Her head was bleeding and her leg was mostly gone. Arcadia gave her a shot of adrenaline quickly, just enough for the girl to talk.

“Dannick. Where is he?” she asked firmly.

Through her tears, the mercenary looked up at Arcadia. “Don’t. Know.” She hissed through gritted teeth.

Giving the girl a shot of high dose morphine, Arcadia left the girl in a blissful state, away from the pain from her leg. For now. She continued to thoroughly search the sea of new intakes, looking intently for Dannick, or anyone from his scouting mission. Finally, she saw the Stitcher limping their way behind the injured on stretchers. Making a beeline towards them, Arcadia looked around to see where Dannick was. It was also that moment that the Stitcher’s heart rate spiked. They had seen her and were trying to turn away from her. She caught up to them easily, and pulled them to a stop.

“Dannick. Where is he?” She ordered, a little louder than necessary.

The heart rate rose higher, and the Stitcher’s breath was coming fast. They were afraid. Very afraid.

Arcadia gripped their arm a bit tighter and looked into their eyes.

“Where is Dannick?” she said quietly, but the anger in her voice was frightening.

The Stitcher’s lip began to tremble. “I… I tried to… I tried so hard to –” they broke off with a sob.

Arcadia repeated her question again, more forceful, her dread rising.

“I… I tried to Stitch him, but… he… he was already g-gone.” Tears fell freely from their face as they sobbed once again.

Arcadia grew still. Quietly, almost deadly, she asked once more, “Where. Is. He?”

“We had… had to leave...him…” The Stitcher was shaking down, the pain in their arm increasing as Arcadia’s grip tightened. 

Arcadia loosened her grip on the Stitcher, but it was not merciful. She felt the rage and devastation rise in her chest.

“It is YOUR JOB TO STITCH HIM.” She yelled. All around, everyone slowly grew silent, watching the events unfold before them.

Arcadia had never raised her voice, not since she first got to the training center. This was a terrifying scene.

The Stitcher coward away from Arcadia, visibly terrified at her anger. “I’m sorry! I tried!” she cried out.

“You are meant to save the team NO MATTER WHAT.” Arcadia screamed at the girl, her voice echoing across the camp.

“I did. I tried. I – “

Their words were cut off as Arcadia punched them square in the jaw. She heard the jaw break and crack under her knuckles, but she did not stop. She began to pummel the Stitcher, unleashing her anger. It took a few seconds for anyone to react, and once they did, it took five people to stop Arcadia from killing the Stitcher.

It was Cane who grabbed Arcadia when he arrived at the scene, and took her into the captains’ barracks. He had to wrangle her for a few moments before she gradually slowed, falling to her knees and crying as she once had when her mother was killed. Cane cradled her in his arms while she sobbed, grieving in disbelief that her one friend, the one she trusted the most in the world was gone. Cane himself shed a few tears for his fallen comrade.

“May the stars guide his path in his end. Through the sky, across the dry sea, may he find peace.” Cane gently spoke the final prayer for fallen soldiers in war. A pitiful prayer in light of their grief, but comforting nonetheless.

Arcadia could not bring herself to say the responding prayer, her voice hoarse from screaming and crying. She ached all over, and the pain was worse than any other time she had been tortured. It was a different, more poignant pain than any knife could inflict, more heart wrenching.

Arcadia was shipped back to the main land, her grief inconsolable by any one, and it was effecting her abilities. She could not Stitch anyone, if they managed to get her to try. She became comatose, only reacting with extreme violence when pushed by her superiors to begin Stitching again. She became a liability to the base in Centrolia, and so she was sent home, along with her team. They had decided unanimously that they would not stay without her. Although Dannick had been the only one of the team that Arcadia truly trusted, they knew that she had no one else to get her through this.

Finally, after Arcadia had effectively broken almost every bone in the General’s body back at their home base, the government allowed Arcadia to be taken off of active duty temporarily, in order for her to grieve and, hopefully, move on. Her team would occasionally go on missions, but they never stayed away for long, always making sure to let Arcadia know where they were and when they got back.


	4. What the Fuck is this?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia, three years after Dannick's death, is sent back to Centrolia. The northern region was a wasteland, but a necessary part within the war.   
She and Cane were sent to find two Maranica operatives when they were separated by two evolved soldiers, Elementals, one of whom was something neither of them could comprehend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, things are moving :) 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!!
> 
> Thank you kindly.

A year had passed when Arcadia, while still mostly devoid of life, returned to active duty. She never did more than was necessary of her, and she never spoke to anyone. None of her team mates could get her to talk to them. It was a distressing regression into the same behaviour she had when she first got there, but they could nothing but wait. It would be a matter of time that Arcadia would be comfortable to trust and talk again. If that time ever came.

**********

Nearing the third anniversary of Dannick’s death, a mission came in for Arcadia’s team, and this one, Arcadia was asked to join. This mission was particularly difficult, as they were being sent to Centrolia once again, but on the northern border. They waited for Arcadia to react, whether she would be angry, or silent, they had no idea. Luckily, Arcadia simply grabbed her pack and headed out toward the craft that would take them to the border.

The pain of his loss was still fresh in Arcadia’s mind, but she had grown used to it being there constantly. It was a reminder to never let anyone tell her no when it came to protecting her team. She had power in her abilities, and when she took them away, the bases of the government suffered for it.

Cane was given the details of this mission, and they set out early that morning. Arcadia’s team had received a new scout, although they were not matched as a Protector for Arcadia. Arcadia had almost killed the one Protector that was given to her after Dannick’s death, and so they left her alone. Unfortunately for them, she was the best Stitcher, and she was no longer afraid of court marshals, so they had to let her do what she wanted, much to the distaste to the Commanders.

This squadron consisted of her team, along with two other Stitchers, 2 Scavengers, 5 Hulks, and about a dozen mercenaries. The mission was to help the front lines as head quarters had received chatter about a new type of weapon that was wiping out too many of their troops.

Arcadia watched the other two Stitchers check their packs for the fifth time, ensuring that they had all they needed for the drop. They had only experienced 2 runs of deployment, unlike Arcadia, who had experienced too much for a regular human.

She estimated that about half of the squadron would die by the third day, at least 2 will be shipped home almost immediately from wounds that took too much time to heal under duress. Arcadia knew she could cover the entire squadron, but had specifically requested to have help, so that she could teach them and get them up to at least an expert level in the field. She rested her hand on her pack, feeling the rough patch work on her pack. Inside, she knew, contained all that she needed and some extra. Quick and non life threatening wounds would be bandaged until a Stitcher could get to them at a later time, pain medication in darts for immediate effectiveness, and adrenaline for those with moderate to severe wounds to get them to safety. Those were the wounds that Arcadia dealt with, the ones that required her to literally stitch the person back together before she could move them. It was a dangerous process, not only for the patient – because too much strain on the damaged muscles and tissue could have negative results – but also for herself because it took a lot of energy and concentration to complete it. And with heavy artillery fire, and other attacks that were not made with man made weapons, concentrating in the field takes extreme skill.

She usually kept at least 2 shots of adrenaline for herself, in order to keep going when she got tired. Her pack also included a lot of antibiotics to fight infection for those she couldn’t reach with her Stitching. With this one pack, and the way she organized it, she could easily save approximately 100 people, maybe more depending on the severity of their wounds.

Other than to give orders and direct the young Stitchers in their doctoring, Arcadia remained silent. Silence is what has kept her alive and sane. The pain of loss and years of torture still surfaced, but she remained silent through it all. Every so often her back or her arms would hurt, still feeling the effects of torture. The wounds on her back were extensive, running up and down her spine, ragged and mean looking, and fucking painful. The skin would pull sometimes, causing Arcadia to twitch involuntarily. She had gotten used to breathing through the pain though. It was the emotional pain that Arcadia could never get used to.

Her reputation as extremely violent, despite being the best, made her unapproachable. Especially after Dannick was killed. Everyone avoided her as best as they could, both from fear of her, but also the extensive scarring all over her body. She wore her trials and toils on her body like armour, and only her team could bear to be around her for any length of time.

Absently, she touched the two rough scars that ran along her left cheekbone from ear to near the corner of her mouth. She remembered exactly when she had been given that scar, down to the minute. It had been the second time in her life that she had been captured, about 2 years after the first one. Dannick was already dead by that time, and it was rumoured that Arcadia had wanted to be captured in order to die. But Cane fought tooth and nail to get her back, knowing that Arcadia would not want to die if that meant disappointing Dannick and letting him down, even in death.

Her captor had been a morph, someone who could shape shift into a hybrid human but couldn’t fully transform into anything permanently. His hands, however, could transform into anything he wanted. He almost suffocated her by making his hands into tentacles and forcing them down her throat. Nearly ripped her to shreds with his sharp claws, either wolf or something of the like. But the hands he chose for her face were that of his own design. He had explained to her that he had seen this old movie once about aliens and the claws that one species had seemed very useful for this purposes and decided to test them out. She remembered how thrilled he was when the claw bit into the flesh and made a ragged line rather than a straight one like a knife would. He got so excited, however, that he hadn’t noticed the little red dot on his chest that blew him apart.

Her lip twitched with sadistic pleasure. She had wanted to kill him herself, and was angry that Cane saved her. She wished desperately that it would have been Dannick, making a surprise appearance back into her life and make her life whole again. But it never happened, and when Cane brought her back to be healed, she yelled at, and, bit any Stitcher that came near her. She took the time to heal to have the scar remain and be a reminder of the life that was lost. And how she was never going to be the same.

The ship dipped into its descent pattern and the pressure changed in the cabin, breaking Arcadia out of her reverie. Everyone was beginning to get antsy, since the moment the door opened, they would have to alert and ready for anything. They had been tasked to arrive as close to the battle as possible, in order to help those trapped in No Mans land and enemy territory. Arcadia breathed deeply, closing her eyes in a silent prayer. Her mother had taught her an ancient prayer from her ancestors, speaking in a language that was mostly dead. Cree, her mother had called it, the language of our people. Arcadia never went into battle without muttering under her breath, or at the very least, thinking it in her mind. It wasn’t for good luck or anything, but it reminded her of her mother, and always felt her presence when she did. She also sent a prayer to Dannick, hoping to the stars that he could hear her.

The bay door’s light turned yellow, alerting everyone to get ready for the drop. Arcadia shuffled the pack onto her back and secured the straps at the front. It wasn’t an overly heavy bag, but running with it was a pain. She pulled the straps as tight as they would go and stood up behind Cane. He had decided to personally become her Protector of some sort, but fully aware that no one could or would ever replace Dannick.

The light turned green, and the door opened slowly, sucking the air out with it, making everyone brace against the walls of the ship for balance. Cane raised his hand in a fist then shot it forward. Time to go.

…

The use of bombs seemed primitive when Arcadia was first recruited into the military, but it didn’t halt their effectiveness. The variation of wounds that could come from a bombing were staggering, and a lot of the time, Arcadia didn’t make to the patient in time to save them. Usually, she would give them a dose of pain relief that would help them leave peacefully. “Being a Stitcher doesn’t make you god” her mother had once told her. “It just makes you choose between sacrifice and compassion”. At first, Arcadia had thought that the sacrifice her mother meant was having people die under her care, and compassion was to save them. Later, however, Arcadia came to learn it was the reverse. It took compassion to see who would not survive and give them a peaceful way out, and it was sacrifice to save those would be alive, but had to live with the pain of their wounds forever. Whether through loss or shame, living a half life was harder to deal with after the initial pain had subsided. For some, it never did.

Here, the bombings were no different. The magnitude of bullets and arrays of attacks, missiles, and projectiles would make anyone quiver in their boots. Arcadia ran along, stopping every so often to check on a body she came across, to see whether they were already dead, wounded, or just unconscious. Usually they were dead, especially since they had only just arrived. The squadron moved further into the battle, heading for the front line and No Man’s land. She could already here the cries of men and women from their wounds, the shrill yells of commanders giving their orders, and the constant whistle and _snick_ of bullets in the air. Arcadia set to work, administering pain meds and wrapping bandages around heads and arms, tagging them by severity for the other Stitchers to come and collect them behind her. She worked fast and efficiently, worming her way through the trenches, hiding and ducking every few seconds to dodge a bomb or an array of bullets. She could feel the sweat running down her back, making her scars itch slightly. She pressed forward though, working hard and saving as many as she could as the sun went down, and the battle field became devoid of metallic reverbs and a haunting moan begin to rise.

**********

Back at the base, Arcadia was busy Stitching a man’s leg back together. It had been shattered by a grenade, but luckily the skin held much of the leg together. She had administered a sleep inducing drug to knock the patient out so that she could Stitch the leg without him moving around. It was a time consuming Stitch, but once she was done with it, the patient would be set to go back out in the morning. The other Stitchers would occasionally walk past her to watch her in action, but a frightening look from Arcadia sent them hurrying back to their own patients.

Just as she finished with the leg, Cane came up to her. She took one look at him, frowned, and gently placed her hand on his shoulder. Cane winced slightly, and shifted his feet, but remained still as Arcadia Stitched his shoulder back together from three bullet holes. After, Cane nodded to her in thanks.

“We have orders.” He muttered thickly.

“For what?” She replied.

He sighed. “There are two men in No Man’s that we need to find. Davis and Cole. They’re Maranica operatives that were supposed to return with intel of this new weapon that Noviasia supposedly has, but they haven’t yet.” Cane explained, his voice rasping near the end. He pulled out a silver flask and took a long pull. Arcadia held out her hand for the flask, and after a second’s deliberation, Cane handed it to her. She also took a long pull and was mildly surprised that it was Scotch. Not very often is it possible to find Scotch nowadays, especially with the war. Her lip twitched slightly as she handed it back, turned around to gather her pack, and then followed Cane back out to a black truck that would take them as close as they could get without detection.

*****

The search lasted all night. Arcadia surveyed the dead, finding no one alive at this time, but also, and thankfully, not finding their intended targets. She sat down for a moment and drank from her canteen. It was already beginning to warm up for the day, and she could feel the fatigue setting in. She looked back to where Cane was and saw that he was also sitting down. They would have to leave soon, with or without their targets, if they didn’t want to get caught in the cross fire. Unlike most Stitchers, specifically new ones, Arcadia didn’t dress like a Stitcher, or have the identifying patch on her pack. It was like she was a blaring signal just calling the enemy to her. She didn’t carry a gun, but she did have a knife. Dannick had given her the knife as a gift when they had finally gotten used to each other. He had said that he would not be around all the time to protect her, so at least she would have a fighting chance. It hurt to acknowledge that he was right.

Soon, shots were being fired about a mile off, so Arcadia and Cane started to carefully make their way back to camp. Keeping an eye on their surroundings, they moved quickly through the abandoned trenches, stepping over the dead and keeping low.

Suddenly, a sudden gust of powerful wind knocked both of them over. To their left, coming over the trench, two Elementals swooped in, taking their advantage of their surprise attack. Cane raised his gun and began shooting, while Arcadia bolted out of trench, up and over towards the camp. It was the plan that Cane had put in place for her. She was to run as fast as she could and not stop until she came across friendlies. Her legs pumped painfully beneath her, as she tripped and slipped on the blood and bodies. She could hear someone in pursuit, so she kept pushing forward. She hadn’t realized how far the base camp was without the truck, and her body was screaming at her due to lack of sleep and food. In that second, however, her body was suddenly shot forward, her legs thrown out from under her and she landed hard on the ground. Quickly, she twisted around to try and stand, but a foot shot out and lodged itself firmly on her throat.

Her attacker looked hideous. Her face was deformed, a clear sign of experimentation. Arcadia wondered what her powers were if she had that much experimentation done to her. Furthermore, how crazy and brainwashed she was after the fact. Her attacker looked intently at Arcadia and slowly smiled.

“A Stitcher. A good one no doubt. Not many of you left are there?” Her voice sounded constricted, as if the experiments had affected her voice box. Her foot pressed more firmly on Arcadia’s throat, making Arcadia breathless.

She watched as her attacker’s head twitched to the side and her eyes flashed. She was clearly unstable, but whether it was voluntary was a different story. Arcadia looked into her attacker to see what she could find, but something was blocking her vision from looking at her attacker. Confused, she tried again, but nothing was revealed to her.

The attacker chuckled. “Can’t assess me Stitcher. I’m too important to let that happen.” Just as suddenly as her foot was on Arcadia’s throat, it was gone. The attacker stepped back a few paces and straightened. “You see, I’m special. I’m going to win this war.” She smiled again, the skin on her face pulling in such a way that rendered the smile shiver inducing. Arcadia coughed painfully, and move as quickly as she could to a standing position. The attacker laughed manically at her, “But you won’t be here to see it.”

Before Arcadia could react, the attacker raised her arms at her sides, a faint blue glow emanating from her hands and steadily growing with intensity. One second later she brought her hands together in front of her in a loud clap, blasting the blue light straight at Arcadia. Arcadia braced herself for the inevitable pain that was about to hit her, for death. With no way to escape from the little ditch they were in, and with Cane still fighting the other attacker, Arcadia knew that she was done. Her final fight and she was taken down by some new, unknown powerhouse.

Arcadia felt the heat of the light on her skin a moment before it hit her full on the chest. It knocked the wind out of her lungs and sent her flying back. Her vision blurred as the pain became excruciating. It radiated over her entire body, burning like a high intensity laser.

But just as the pain became almost too overwhelming, it disappeared. Her lungs begged for air, screamed for it, but her muscles were not responding. What sort of power was this? A pain worse than death, but infinitely more horrible. She could feel the ground under her hands as she fell forward, unable to suck in air, unable to stop herself from falling completely on her face. After what seemed to be forever, her body centered itself and she sucked in a breath of air. It was painful at first, but as she began to breathe normally, the pain subsided. She lay there for a while, gods know how long, just relishing the fact that she could breathe.

She sat up slowly, assessing the damage of her body. She wasn’t bleeding anywhere, which was good, and her chest wasn’t blown apart, which was also good. As she looked at her legs, however, that’s when she noticed that the ground she was sitting on was no longer mud and blood, but green. She looked at it for a moment, utterly confused, her brain unable to catch up with her surroundings due to the shock that was coursing through her body. Slowly, her brain supplied the necessary information. The green stuff at her knees on the ground in front of her was _grass_. She had only heard about grass in some of the old stories that her mother had told her, but she had never seen the real stuff before. She tentatively ran her fingers through the blades. It was cool and wet, soft and flexible. She marveled for a bit, gently caressing the grass as her mind slowly picked up her surroundings.

Still thoroughly confused, she carefully stood up to avoid vertigo, and glanced around. The wind was blowing softly and the sky was empty. It was a second later that she realized that the sky was not simply empty, but it was _clear_. Impossibly clear. The wind was cool, and smooth. Not filled with dust. Taking in her surrounding further, she saw large green looking things near by. Another moment of realization, he saw that they were trees, large and foreboding, and seemingly endless from her vantage point.

Unable to fully comprehend where she was, she left out a shaky breath, “What the fuck?”

Her mind began to reel. What kind of death was this? What was that person’s power? A gift that gave people a beautiful afterlife? Arcadia snorted in derision at the thought. There was no afterlife as far as she could tell, so clearly it must be a hallucinogen or something. But Arcadia thought back to what the attacker had said, that she wouldn’t be around to see her win the war. Teleport maybe? Arcadia had heard of teleportation before, but there were never any cases of people actually having the gift of teleportation. Maybe that was the secret weapon they were brandishing. Teleportation into enemy camps, into cities. The implications were endless and dangerous.

But it didn’t explain where she was. There were no more places on earth that had green grass, or trees. Either they were artificial and for the extreme elite and rich, or considered non essential due to the war.

Arcadia took a few paces, looking around her. The greenness of the land was so daunting was constant. It went on for a far as she could see. She looked for signs of where she might be, but there were no towers anywhere, no landmarks of any kind. Maybe she _was_ dead.

When she turned around once more, something caught her eye in the distance. There was a large dark, moving spot on the horizon, seemingly coming in her direction. She crouched down in precaution, alert just in case she wasn’t dead. Whatever it was, Arcadia was not willing to go down without a flight. As the dark spot came closer, something in Arcadia told her to run. Jumping out of her crouch, she dashed across the field she was in towards the trees. She dodged around a few trees before stopping and hiding behind a large one so that her body was covered. Calming her breathing and her heart rate, she cautiously peered around the tree to see where the dark moving spot was.

As the dark spot came closer, Arcadia saw that it was a group of men on giant four legged things. Her eyes widened a bit as she took in what she was seeing. Again, she was utterly dumbfounded. Horses. Actual, live, breathing horses! Arcadia shook her head slightly in disbelief. She had never seen a horse in real life, only in old pictures from the previous wars she had been taught about. She had heard brief rumors from other soldiers of some insanely rich people who managed to regrow horses as a species, but because of the lack of, well, anything, they were considered non-essential things.

Where the fuck had that Elemental sent her?

As watched as the group of men stopped some little ways from her and began to dismount their horses. The men dispersed a bit, stretching and drinking. She kept her eyes on one man who was walking toward the trees, and it was then that Arcadia noticed how he was dressed. She blinked in surprise, shook her head slightly and looked again. The man she was looking at was wearing a skirt. She tried to remember her history, but she could remember nothing of men wearing skirts. They had jackets of leather and belts with big buckles. Some men wore hats, others had their heads bare. They all looked like they could use a wash. Then Arcadia noticed that they were all carrying swords. Actual, fucking, swords! Arcadia began to think that not only did she die, but the attacker that killed her had sent her into a special type of hell that not only didn’t make sense, but was unfair. She may have made it that Arcadia would die every day for eternity or something.

Arcadia’s imagination was running away from her, and so she shook herself to get a grip. Logically speaking, no one knew what it was like after death. It seemed to be different to everyone, but so far, Arcadia’s death didn’t seem like a death at all. It did, however, put her on edge. Who were those men, and if they found her, what would they do? Arcadia was sure that at some point, should they find her, she would be subject to assault. While she was used to torture, she wasn’t particularly fond of it. The resolve within her chest hardened at the thought, and she decided that she would kill herself before that could happen, whether she was actually dead or not.

It was in that moment of decision that Arcadia heard a snap of a twig behind her. She whipped around and came face to face with a huge, broad man with flaming red hair, the one who had walked into the tree line. She silently cursed herself for her lack of attentiveness. She clocked his arm, which was holding a sword up to her neck. She clenched her jaw as the tip of his blade touched the bottom of her chin.

“Cò th 'annad?” the man spoke. It was in a language that Arcadia’s translator implant could not translate. Either it was unheard of, or no longer in use. His voice sounded thick and foreign to Arcadia’s ears.

She stared blankly at him for a moment, every muscle tense, ready to run the second his guard was down. She saw that he noticed her blank face, and spoke again, this time, speaking in language that her translator could pick up on.

“Who are you?”

She breathed in deeply and let it out slowly, forcing herself not to let it shake. She raised her hands slowly from her sides, holding them steady as she subtly positioned herself into a stance that provided her the advantage in this situation. She set her face with stony resolve and gave no response.

“I’ll ask again. Who are you?” The man repeated, edging the blade a little harder against her chin.

Arcadia leaned back ever so slightly to avoid being cut. The man surveyed Arcadia from head to toe, and his face betrayed his confusion. After so many years of war, Arcadia rarely revealed her feelings on her face. As the man glanced back up at Arcadia’s face, she took the opportunity of his confusion to escape. She slapped the sword’s tip away from her face, and stepped toward the man. She quickly landed a punch to the gut, kicked out his leg, and once he fell to his knee, jabbed him in the throat. Side stepping out of his reach, she kicked his back, which sent him sprawling forward, whipped around and took off running. She ran inside the line of trees, zigzagging her way through as quickly as possible.

She heard the man cry out when he had managed to get his breath back, which then lead to more cries from the other men. She hadn’t caused him too much damage. Mainly a bruised esophagus, slightly strained diaphragm and a really sore shin. His pride probably hurt the most. Arcadia kept running, past the point of her legs about to collapse and her lungs on fire. She could hear faint yells of pursuit, but not as many as there were men in the group. So clearly, they had sent only a few men after her. Something that she could handle, maybe. It depended all on the world that the attacker had send her into at her death.

Or was she even dead? Everything so far seem real, and the man that threatened her seemed real as well. Arcadia’s mind was fussy from fatigue, and her sense of logic was lacking. Soon, she came to a clearing, which showed a great expanse of green and mountains in the distance. There were no signs of artificial life, or technological advances, and Arcadia had been all over the world. So she knew that such a place didn’t exist in her time.

Then it hit her like a bomb. She stopped running abruptly at the thought. The attacker had said that she would be around to see it. What if she had meant to in a different sense other than death. But was also death in a way? What if, Arcadia thought, the attacker had sent her through _time_ to her death?

The insanity of the thought nearly crippled Arcadian’s logical conclusion.

The attacker’s power was clearly an unheard of form of teleportation, one where _time _is the main thing that was being teleported through, rather than space.

Arcadia’s head began to pound, which at that point she realized that she was breathing far to quickly. Hyperventilating. She had been sent back in time to a point where technology didn’t exist, a time where there was such a thing a grass and trees, and horses that were used for travel. She tried to force herself to breath properly, but the adrenaline from the day previous, or the future, was beginning to wear off. She fell hard to her knees and she leaned forward towards the grass. The air around her seemed to suffocate her, and she couldn’t get any air in her lungs. Her head pounded even more painfully now and her ears became muffled. She struggled to find a breath, and when she managed to, she let out a panicked scream, something she hadn’t done since Dannick died. In the back of her mind, she knew that her scream would bring the men straight to her, but her mind was no longer in control.

The panic that rose throughout her body had taken over and she collapsed on the ground, able to breath again, but still far too quickly. As her vision began to fade, she saw the silhouette of the man who had first confronted her. His face came into view as he drew close to her, but she couldn’t hear a thing he said. The air around her was too muffled and too thick. She whimpered as she lost consciousness.


	5. A Risk in the Dark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia wakes up to a fire and ten eyes staring at her. She's tired, hungry, and sore.  
Let the dangerous game begin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The timeline is moving faster now, as it kind of does in Outlander.  
No names have been revealed yet, as Arcadia is still dealing with being a woman out of her time. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!
> 
> Thank you kindly.

Arcadia could feel the heat of a fire close to her left side when she regained consciousness. She shivered despite the heat, goose pimples rising on her arms and legs. She could feel that she was lying down on the hard ground, only cushioned by a rough blanket. Her mind slowly started to wake, groggy from her panic attack and lack of food. Her tongue was dry and felt thick as wool, and it hurt a bit to swallow when she tried. She needed her canteen, but when she reached for it, she couldn’t find it. She opened her eyes to look for it, but when she did, she stilled. Five men were watching her intently. Quickly taking in the situation, she saw that a few men had their hands near or on their swords by their sides. She could tell by their heartbeats that they were a little nervous. She knew she was the cause of their discomfort, but in that moment she did not care. She was thirsty and hungry. She shivered again when she studied them a bit further, while also looking for her pack, taking in their odd clothes in relation to the cold temperature. She could see her breath a bit each time she exhaled. It was an odd sensation, considering her time was always hot.

She came to realize that without the men and their fire, she would probably freeze out in this terrain. Especially since she had no idea where she was, nor what she would do if she were alone. Fire was not an oddity in her time, but it was not a necessity. If anything, it was troublesome and annoying because it simply added to the heat.

She tried swallowing again, but found it even harder, her throat scratchy and dry. Cautiously, she sat up, holding back a grimace as her body screamed at her movements. Not only did sleeping on the ground make her muscles pained, but the added dehydration and exhaustion made it worse. As she moved into a sitting position, crossing her legs in front of her, her stomach growled and a horrible gnawing feeling over took her body. She needed food too. She tried to recall the last time she ate something, but she couldn’t. Insuring that her face wouldn’t betray how scared she actually was, she returned to looking around for her pack. She finally saw it sitting beside a red haired man. It was the same red haired man that had intercepted her earlier. He did not look angry though, more cautiously curious. 

“Can I have my pack?” She croaked, her voice sore from intermittent screaming and disuse.

All the men stared at her. She realized she had forgotten about the language difference, and had spoken to them in her own language. She tried to recall what the language here was, what the red haired man had said to try and jog her memory, but her brain was fuzzy and tired from the events of the past hours. She waited to see if one of them would say something to another, or to her, but no one said anything. She sighed, slightly annoyed. She was going to have to give them something in order for her to get something in return. Although she was loath to do it, she decided to give them her name.

Looking directly into the red haired man’s eyes, Arcadia pointed to her chest, “Hark”, she said softly.

The red haired man’s eyebrow rose as he glanced at one of the other men. He looked back at Arcadia, his eyes narrowing, clearly deciding whether or not to do the same.

“What do you think that means?” He muttered to the man next to him.

“I donna ken, but at least she can speak.” The man who replied had long, graying hair and a beard. He had seen better days, but of course, so had everyone else.

The conversation was enough to allow Arcadia’s translator implant to run a full diagnostic this time. In her eye implant, she could see the diagnostic run, shuffling through thousands of different languages. After three seconds, the language name flashed across her eyes.

_Gaelic, circa 1700 BFC. Dead Language. No known descendants or genealogical markers present._

Arcadia’s breath caught in her throat. _BFC_. Before the Federation Conception. That would mean that she was in the very distant past, approximately 1200 years. For her, it was considered _ancient_ history, primitive and dangerous for anyone. Her mind reeled, but she kept herself from panicking any further.

“_Gaelic_,” she thought, “_must have been a very primitive form of language, but clearly usable_.”

Her data base of languages did not have enough to make her fluent in Gaelic, although she was surprised that it had some of it at all. She slowly brought her hands together and she touched the inside of her right wrist to work the eye and translator implants. She scrolled through the language suggestions for a more common language that her translator had access to. She realized quickly that if she suddenly understood Gaelic, the men would start to ask questions she could not answer, and that was dangerous. Her data base gave her the option of Old English, although in comparison to the time period that she was in, it was a modern version. She downloaded both languages to settle in her forefront of her translator, wanting to have every advantage in this situation. 

When she completed this, she watched them closely. Some of the men were beginning to get anxious at her silence and seemingly lack of communication skills. She tried swallowing again, but this time it hurt enough to cause her to grimace. 

“My pack.” She spoke in Old English. Her voice was still hoarse from disuse, but becoming more like a whisper with each breath. She needed her canteen now. 

The gray haired man leaned back in surprise, although it didn’t last long.

“Ah, so you speak English.” He spoke in English, his voice was gruff and throaty, similar to Cane’s but heavily accented.

Instead of speaking again, Arcadia nodded her head toward her pack, raising her eyebrows in question. The gray haired man looked at her for a moment before nodding to the red haired one to hand it to her. She took it from his hands cautiously but swiftly, wrenching the canteen from the side pocket, twisting the top off and talking a long pull. The slick liquid covered her mouth in a delicious sweetness and hydration that Arcadia actually sighed out loud in relief. It had an instant effect on her body because it was filled with nutrients, and her body, and throat, thanked her for it. She took another gulp, licking her lips to make sure she got all of it. She breathed deeply, satisfied at least for the moment. Her stomach growled in protest at the lack of solid food, but she would at least survive from dehydration.

She took another sip of the liquid, wanting to conserve the rest for later. Once she was done, she returned her gaze back at the gray haired man. He had continued to stare at her the entire time, and still didn’t seem to know what to do about her. After another moment, he leaned forward.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“Hark.” Arcadia repeated.

“Hark? Where is that from?”

Arcadia remained silent. She wouldn’t be able to answer questions like that, unless she wanted to get herself killed. She could see that the gray haired man’s temperament was beginning to rise to anger, a vein in his neck pulsing through his collar.

“Where are you from?” He asked again, a bit more forcefully this time.

Again, Arcadia said nothing, just merely looked at him with the same forceful stare he was giving her. There wasn’t anything that he could do to make her talk unless she wanted to talk. Many had tried, and each one of them failed.

“How did you come to Scotland?” the red haired man interjected.

Arcadia turned her eyes to him with the same intensity. He seemed taken back a bit, especially considering how she had bested him only hours before. Again, she said nothing. How could she? Without them thinking of her as an enemy, or something else sinister. Frantically, she racked her mind for something to respond with, however. She needed to give them something to stay alive. Again. She hated to give anything to anyone. The less these people knew about her was better.

She looked back at the gray haired man. “Ship”. She hoped that sort of half truth would be sufficient for them.

“A ship? From where? France, or elsewhere?” the Gray haired one continued the questioning.

Arcadia shook her head. “Across the expanse.” Which was also a half truth. The air ship that had brought her to Centrolia had to cross the Great Expanse.

“The New World?” he asked, clearly surprised. “What are you doing here then?” He asked, genuinely curious.

Arcadia simply shrugged in response. Her stomach gurgled with need. She moved to open her pack, but froze when the men all moved to grasp their swords more firmly. She kept her hands still as she looked back up towards the men. 

Slowly, she pointed her left hand toward her pack. “Food.” She explained. She watched as they were still weary of her, and she sighed. “Just food.” She reiterated. She started moving again, but much slower than before, so the men could watch and not be startled.

She opened the zipper and reached inside. She grasped for one of the small round packages that contained dehydrated food. Once she had it, she pulled it out and set it beside her leg. Then she grabbed a flat disc from the inner lining of the pack, which she punched out to form a bowl. She heard a few gasps, and when she looked up, all the men were looking at her in amazement. Or fright, she wasn’t entirely sure. Shock and fear registered similarly in the body, so it was left to the mind to distinguish if it was bad or not. Still annoyingly slow, she opened the packet of food and emptied its contents into the bowl. Watching them with some amusement, she took a bite of the packaging, since it was edible as well. Some eyes widened, others narrowed, but still no one spoke. She grabbed her canteen from her side and poured a bit of the liquid into the bowl. Setting it down, she gently moved the bowl in a circular motion to mix the contents. After a few seconds, the contents expanded and her nutrition bread was ready. She grabbed the bread and pulled it apart and shoved a piece into her mouth. Her taste buds relished the sweetness and airiness of the bread and her stomach growled happily. She chewed slowly, watching as the men collected themselves enough to look around at each other.

“How did you do that?” one of the men asked. This one was dark haired and heavily bearded.

“Just add liquid.” Arcadia said simply. She wasn’t about to explain the process of her futuristic food.

Then she heard it. She hadn’t heard it before while she was concentrating on her situation, but as her mind calmed while she ate, she heard it. Multiple heart beats. She stopped chewing and listened closely. She looked at each of the men in front of her and counted. Five heart beats. But where were the other ones coming from? She closed her eyes and concentrated hard on the other heart beats and counted.

“_One, two, three… seven…eight...nine.” _She thought.

She swallowed hard, the bread sticking in her throat a bit and looked at the grey haired man sharply.

“Are you expecting others?” She asked quietly.

His sudden change in posture and blood pressure told her he wasn’t. She put down her bowl and discreetly motioned with her hands that there were nine others around the camp. The grey haired man raised an eye brow, but didn’t show any sign of fear or inclination to make any movement. She did notice, however that each of the men all were readjusting their seating positions so that they could reach their weapons more easily.

The grey haired man motioned slightly to the red haired man, who nodded and came to gingerly sit beside Arcadia.

“When I tell ye, run to the little hovel over to your left and stay there.” he whispered in a low voice. He knelt to stoke the fire as he did so, carefully pulling out a dagger from its sheath. Arcadia noticed his hair glowed in the fire light, shaping nicely around his face.

She tilted her head down in acknowledgement and picked up her bowl again. Slowly, she finished her bread, breathing in between bites. She opened her pack and collapsed the bowl and tucked it back inside. As she was closing her pack, she heard one heart beat in particular quicken with adrenaline, one from outside their campsite, and she gave the grey haired man another sharp glance. Whoever was coming were not friendly.

In the quiet, a twig snapped, signifying the intruders’ approach, and the men around the camp fire sprang into action with a howl. They drew their weapons full out and ran into the surrounding darkness. The red haired one grasped Arcadia’s arm and told her to run. And she did. She had no desire to fight, especially when the fight wasn’t hers. Tossing her pack onto her back, she quickly scurried into the small hovel that the red haired man had pointed out, breathing deeply to remain calm. This was not new to her. In fact, the clangs of metal ringing in the night, and the grunts of men fighting were so familiar, Arcadia could almost imagine that she was back in her own time. There was the sound of flesh being torn, and blood spurting from fatal wounds. To Arcadia’s dismay and tightening in her stomach, she heard and saw a gunshot blast into the night. Several more followed. The sound both surprised her and didn’t. It did because she hadn’t realized that guns and bullets had been used during such an ancient time, but it didn’t because guns had always been part of her life that the sound didn’t frighten her. But it just told her that no where was safe. Much like her own time, in the dark, she could not tell who was injured or dead, friendly or foe. 

Suddenly, something grabbed her left ankle and yanked her from her hiding place. She twisted around and saw an unfamiliar face with a body wrapped in a red coat. Clearly, it was one of the attackers, since he wasn’t wearing a skirt. Jamming her hands into the ground, she shifted her body to swing her other leg around to kick her assailant. He grunted in surprise and pain, but still managed to hold onto her ankle. Annoyed, Arcadia pulled down with her leg to throw the man off balance, pulling him forward. At the same time, she raised her other leg again and kicked him full force in the face. Blood erupted from his nose and his grasp on her ankle broke. She rolled away from him and pulled out her knife from the bottom sheath of her pack. It was concealed for obvious reasons, and easily retrievable. She crouched in defense, keeping a weary eye on her attacker and the fight around her. The man recovered himself fairly well and leaving his face to be covered in blood, he rushed her Arcadia with murder in his eyes.

Though she loathed to do it, Arcadia could defend herself in a fight, quickly and fatally. She held onto her blade loosely in her hand, waiting for her assailant to come closer to her. His rage was his downfall and as he reached for her arm, she used his forward momentum to dodge his attack and drive her blade into his gut. The man gasped in surprise, the air suddenly forced out of this lungs at the trauma done to his body. Pulling out the blade, Arcadia repositioned and drove it into the base of his throat, severing his jugular. His eyes bulged even in the dark, the faint flicker of the fire dancing on his ashen face. She withdrew the blade and his blood spurted out, splashing onto her face and clothes. He dropped to his knees and clutched at his throat and gut. Arcadia backed away from the man, hearing his heart pump the blood to his body but receive none in return.

The body holds a lot of blood. No one really understands just how much until they see it pour out of someone. For Arcadia, the sight wasn’t new, nor was it horrifying. It was sad. Sad that a life was wasted for a meaningless cause, for war. It didn’t matter what war. She hated the concept in general.

Arcadia was so focused on her own attacker that she hadn’t noticed it had gone silent. The fight was clearly over. She turned around and saw the red haired man looking at her with a mix of fear, confusion, and awe on his face. He was cradling one arm tightly against his side.

“Where the hell did ye learn to do that?” he asked quietly.

Arcadia looked at him, deciding whether or not to tell him for fear of him killing her as well. Finally, she breathed in and squared her shoulders.

“I’m a Stitcher.”

“What’s a stitcher?” he asked.

Arcadia paused for a moment, trying to figure out the best way to explain it to a man of the 18th century.

“A doctor. Uh… Healer. In war.” She explained.

“A healer?” He didn’t seem satisfied with her answer, especially since it answered nothing about her ability to kill a man, but for the moment simply shrugged the one functioning shoulder. “Well then, I suppose we could use your skills now.” He said, turning away. He paused and turned back around and motioned for her to follow.

She wiped her blade on her leg and tucked it back into her pack, and followed the red haired man back to the fire. There was a man wounded man lying on the ground, clutching his abdomen. Arcadia assessed the damage and determined that it wasn’t exactly fatal, but giving the time period she was in it definitely could be.

“She claims to be a healer.” The red haired man said to the grey haired one.

“Can you help Rupert then?” he grumbled, looking hard at her. To the untrained eye, it would seem that he was angry, but the underlying bodily reactions, Arcadia knew that the grey haired one cared for the man. 

Arcadia glanced between the grey haired man and the red haired one, then down at the man named Rupert. She nodded and knelt down beside him. In the dark, it was difficult to see the wound, but for Arcadia, she didn’t exactly need the light to see what she was doing. She pulled off her pack and set it beside her and opened the large pocket. She pulled out a cloth and some gauze, as well as her forceps and long tweezers. She wiped down both of them with her sterile cloth. As she was about to start, she paused. Looking around her, she grabbed a small branch, large enough to fit into a mouth.

“Here. Bite down. This is going to hurt like a bitch.” She said, handing Rupert the stick.

He eyes bugged a bit at her language, but did as he was told. Firmly placing it between his teeth, he laid down his head, his adrenaline spiking a bit.

Arcadia nodded to the men, “Hold him down. Can’t heal him with the bullet inside.”

No one moved.

“What do you mean heal him?” The grey haired one asked.

“Get the bullet out, close the wound, no infection.” She explained.

“Infection?” another man queried.

Arcadia turned her gaze towards the man who spoke. He was slightly unattractive, with some teeth missing, but she could tell he was worried for Rupert. “Red and deadly.” She said as explanation.

There was a collective intake of breath among the men. They all turned to the grey haired man, seeking his leadership. He studied her hard for another moment before ordering the men to hold down Rupert and let her work. Two men moved forward and grabbed Rupert’s shoulders and legs to keep him from moving.

Nodding at Rupert for his assent, which he returned, Arcadia wiped a sterile cloth over the wound to clean it somewhat, and picked up her forceps and tweezers. Carefully, she placed her forceps into the wound spread it apart slightly. This caused Rupert to grunt and squirm. Relying in her ability alone, she slid the tweezers into the hole, receiving another grunt from Rupert that slowly turned into a muffled cry. She closed her eyes and followed the trail of the bullet until she could feel it within the grasp of her tweezers. Pressing down firmly, she pulled out the bullet slowly to assess the damage as it came it. She withdrew the bullet and threw it away, placing her forceps and tweezers down on her pack. She quickly grabbed the cloth and covered his wound to staunch the bleeding. Luckily, the gun shot wound wasn’t too serious, in a manner of speaking. It would still require Arcadia to _heal_ him, at least to the point where he wouldn’t die of infection.

While pressing on his wound, something occurred to Arcadia. The grey haired man had asked how she was going to heal him. She realized then to what he was referring.

Still holding the wound closed, Arcadia breathed in deeply. Putting on her no nonsense face, she looked back up at the grey haired man. “If I heal him, swear you won’t kill me.” Arcadia spoke with as much authority as she could muster. She was risking everything by demanding this.

He brow furrowed in confusion. Folding his arms across his chest, he pondered the situation, about what she meant by her request. Finally, he came to a decision.

“If you don’t heal him, I’ll kill you. He’s my kinsman, you ken?” The grey haired man said finally. 

Arcadia waited.

The grey haired man sighed impatiently, “Aye, I swear not to kill ye if you heal him.” He agreed.

Arcadia swallowed, breathing a silent sigh of relief, and set to work.

Removing the cloth, she placed her hands on either side of the wound. Closing her eyes in concentration, she felt for the sides of the wound and began to Stitch. Rupert cried out in agony as his skin began to pull together, healing at a much faster rate, his screams only muffled by the stick still in his mouth. The wound itself wasn’t wide, but it was deep, and the levels of healing varied. The deeper the wound, the longer it took to heal, as each vein, vessel and tissue had to reconnect their own tissues. And with such an old style bullet, a lot of damage was done to the connective tissue. The worst was the very top though, the final layer of dermis. It burned and itched as new tissue was formed under her hands. She could feel herself becoming tired, a tiny bead of sweat on her brow from the effort. After about ten minutes of her healing, and Rupert’s crying fading to a whimper, Arcadia was done.

She pulled her hands away and there was no mark left on his body from the wound, save a slightly pink circle.

Breathing slightly more heavily, Arcadia leaned back on her heels, ready to fall asleep. She looked at the grey haired man to find his jaw open slightly and his face almost as grey as his hair.

“He’ll live.” She said hoarsely. She didn’t want to move in case he decided to change his mind and kill her anyway.

A few moments went by in silence. Rupert sat up in amazement, looking down at his large belly and rubbing the spot carefully. He looked at Arcadia in astonishment.

“I dinna ken what ye did but… Thank you, lass. For saving my life.” Rupert said, and he reached out his hand to her.

Arcadia hesitated but then took it gingerly, slightly worried that his acceptance of what had just transpired was not accepted by everyone. The grey haired man remained silent, eyes burrowing into her face.

“You’re a witch?” he asked, finally.

Arcadia didn’t exactly know how to answer his question. What she had just done was not a miracle, at least, not for her. She had been used to the sort of thing all her life, and everyone in her time knew about this sort of thing as well. But now she was in an unknown place in a time where superstition apparently ran ramped.

“No. I’m a… healer. I heal people.” She said slowly. She tried to remain calm, but she could feel her fear rising slightly. She knew she couldn’t escape with so many men around, and with no where to go, she would probably die from exposure. Again, she was stuck.

No one said anything for a time, just the crackling of the fire breaking the silence of the night. Arcadia watched the grey one study her in the darkness, willing for him not to see her as a threat.

“Would you mind fixing my arm then?” the red haired one asked, stepping forward a bit, cradling his arm.

Arcadia turned to look at him and noticed that not only did he have cuts from a blade, but his right shoulder was dislocated and the tendons were straining to keep it in place. She nodded silently and moved toward him.

“Sit down,” she ordered him, then turning to another man, she ordered him to hold him in place. “This is the worst part,” she explained, gently grasping his hand.

A small hiss escaped his mouth as she adjusted her grip, and placed her left hand on his elbow. Using as much force as she could in her tired state, she slowly twisted his arm, adjusting the angle as she went in order to line up the shoulder joint with the socket. The red haired one was holding his breath in pain, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. Then Arcadia felt and saw the alignment and she pushed hard upwards on his elbow to slip the joint back into place.

The red haired one gasped, and his eyes opened wide with shock and relief. “It doesna hurt anymore.”

“It will.” Carefully holding his arm against his chest, she reached for his belt. Quickly undoing it, she placed it around his body and tightened it around his arm. She also noticed how his blood pressure spike a bit, and areas lit up from embarrassment. “Don’t move it, so it can heal.” She ordered.

“Can’t you heal it like Rupert?” he asked.

Arcadia looked at him in the eyes, seeing the pain growing. She shook her head. “This isn’t serious. His was.” She said simply.

Slowly, the red haired one nodded in understanding, and soon the rest of the men who were slightly injured came to her one by one to be tended to. Some she Stitched, others she just bandaged or stitched the old fashioned way.

Her weariness began to take its toll on her, and she could feel her body trying to shut down. Sitting slightly farther away from the fire and the men, Arcadia lay down, tucking her pack under her head. It didn’t take long for her eyes to lose focus and her mind drift into unconsciousness.


	6. Rinsing Clean of the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a harrowing night, Arcadia wakes up to a silent morning.  
Then the red-haired man shows her a wonder that she had only dreamed of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry these chapters are so randomly updated and posted. Still working on writing on a consistent basis. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated! 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

In the early dawn, she awoke to the sound of nothing. There was no sound of technology, or the hum of an engine. No vibrations or gun fire. It was eerily quiet, save for the soft snoring from a few of the men. Her own heart beat felt loud in her ears. She sat up quietly and glanced around. The men were sleeping soundly around the fire, but still well away from her. The fire had died sometime in the night, and now it was just embers. She stood up and stretched, taking in her surroundings in the day time.

“You look like a wee devil; you ken?” a voice said softly.

Startled slightly, she turned around to find the voice. The red haired man was sitting the closest to her, out of all the men, holding his arm and massaging it gently. She looked down at herself, and sure enough, her clothes were stained black, green and red from her trip back in time and last night’s ordeal. She still had dust and dirt on her body from the Centrolia no man’s land and she could feel her hair was thick with blood and dirt.

“And?”

He breathed out shortly, and gestured toward the trees. “There’s a small river a few yards north of here where you can wash up before we head on today. I’ll take you there now so you can be back for when we are set to leave.”

Arcadia almost laughed. A small river? Is he kidding? She narrowed her eyes at him in confusion, and it did not slip his notice. He walked past her and picked up his jacket from the ground.

“Come on.” He said, but continued walking without making sure she was behind him.

Her curiosity and eagerness to be clean urged her to follow him, though she doubted that he actually meant a river. More likely a little bubble of the rare free water that springs up from the ground once every few years before it disappears again. She grabbed her pack and followed. After about five minutes of walking, she began to hear an odd sound. She walked a little faster, unable to understand what she was hearing. The ground sloped down a bit as the red haired man came to the edge of the ground dropping off and Arcadia stopped beside him. She gasped, her mouth falling open in surprise and disbelief.

In front of her, a wide river stretched out a few feet across from her, and it was long. Really long. She looked to her right and saw that the water continued up and out of her field of vision, and when she turned to the left, past the man, she saw the same thing. Her eyes went wide and her breath caught.

_An actual river. _

Arcadia had never seen one up close, let alone in the wilderness and so large. This moment was added to her list that cemented the fact that she was indeed in the past.

“All right, wash up best ye can. The men will be up soon.” The red haired man said as walked down toward the water. Arcadia watched as he set down his jacket and knelt down by the river side, reached his hand down into the water and pulled some up in a cupped hand.

_Drinkable water_.

Arcadia felt her heart begin to race. She also felt her face start to pull at the corners of her mouth into a small smile of disbelief, for the first time in a long while.

She walked down to the water side and dropped her pack. She gazed down at the running water, and watched how it moved over the rocks and grass on the banks of the river. The sound was glorious. She closed her eyes and listened to the soft gurgle of the water rippling over the water, and the trickling of tiny falls in between the different ground levels in the water. She opened her eyes to find that her vision was watery as well. She felt the tears fill her eyes and threaten to fall down her face.

The red haired man watched Arcadia throughout this moment and looked at her in bewilderment. He didn’t say anything, but gently put his hand into the water and flicked some up at Arcadia’s legs.

Arcadia jumped at the sudden cold droplets on her bare legs and marveled at how soft and gentle they were. The droplets rolled down her leg and into the tops of her boot.

“I can go in that?” Arcadia asked softly. Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, completely astonished.

“Aye, but I wouldn’t right now. It’s too cold for swimming.” The red haired man explained, straightening up to face her.

Arcadia looked directly into his eyes in surprise. _Swimming? In water?_ She looked back at the water, and decided that she wanted to go in no matter how cold it was. Luckily, she had another set of clothes that she could wear, which meant that Arcadia could take off her four day old ones. She knelt down to undo her boot laces and removed them along with her socks. She then took off her jacket and threw it beside her pack.

She heard the red haired man gasp in surprise, and when she looked at him, his back was turned to her.

“Ye couldn’t have warned me you were going to strip down in front of me.” He snapped.

Arcadia didn’t make an answer, only continued to take off her clothes. Other than her jacket, she was wearing a dark grey t-shirt that was fitted with small pockets for her mini doses of adrenaline and pain medication, along with a few other items. Her pants were black, with stripes of dark grey along the side of her leg. They came down to just below her knees, and were also skin tight. It was at that moment that Arcadia realized why the men where weary of her. Not just because she was a strange woman in the middle of the forest, but because of her attire. Her clothes obviously did not fit in with this century, and so made her extremely odd. But right now, nothing else mattered to Arcadia, as she peeled off her sticky, sweaty, crusty now-dry clothes and tossed them aside. She stood naked at the edge of the water and slowly put one foot in the water. She gasped quietly as the cold liquid washed over her exposed foot. She let out a small laugh, another thing she hadn’t done in years, as she put her foot completely under the water onto the slick rocks beneath. She stepped forward with her other foot and gasped again. It was cold, but brilliantly cold, and miraculous to feel. She looked toward the centre of the river and saw that it looked fairly deep, deep enough to sink into. A slight, nervous giggle erupted from her throat as she walked further into the water. She was waist deep when she heard the red haired man call out to her.

“Hark! What –” his voice cut off as he looked at the naked woman in the water. He wasn’t so surprised by her being in the frigid water naked, but more of what he saw _on _her. Her back was riddled with scars, large white lines covering the entirety of her back. Not to mention the government official tattoos she was compelled to get at the base of her neck to mark her as theirs. He saw that the marks and scars continued on her arms. She turned her head back towards him, careful not to turn all the way around, and she looked at him. He was dumbfounded, mouth ajar slightly, but Arcadia saw something hard in his eyes. Like he recognized something. She turned away from him, slightly uncomfortable that he continued to look at her even as she had stared him down. Not everyone was able to look at her for very long because of her scars. Years of torture and fighting had left its mark on her, and not just her face.

But again, for the moment, Arcadia didn’t let anything bother her, as she took a deep breath in and plunged into the water. The cold was shocking as it engulfed her head, and she shivered. Her breath escaped her and she was forced to go back up for more. She came out gasping and she laughed. Pure laughter. She stood on her tip toes in the water and stretched out her hands in the water, relishing its coolness and silkiness. She could also tell that her body temperature was going down rapidly, and she knew she would have to get out soon. She dunked her head in the water once more, better prepared this time, and under the water she rubbed her hair to remove the dirt and grime. Her head burst through the water and she saw her breath mist in front of her face. Time to get out. She twisted in the water to face the red haired man again and began to move forward. Seeing her do this, he turned around slowly to give her some privacy. She scrambled out of the water, shivering a lot now. Shaking off as much water as she could without a way to dry off, she opened her pack and pulled out her dry, clean-ish clothes. They were similar to her previous outfit, the only difference being her pants were full length down to her ankles. Still skin tight though, and she thought quietly to herself that it may become an issue later on.

“Done.”

The red haired man turned his head carefully towards her, peeking over his uninjured shoulder. He seemed slightly awkward and embarrassed, but also somewhat angry. Her scars had that effect on people on the rare occasion that they saw the full extent of them. She pulled her pack onto her back and waited for him to lead the way back to the fire. He looked at her briefly with such intensity that made Arcadia’s stomach twinge a bit. His scrutiny made her feel odd. Without a word, he began walking back up the slope toward the campsite and Arcadia followed.

When they reached the camp, all the men were awake and packing up their things. Some turned to see our approach, but it was the grey haired one who came towards us.

“You’ll be coming with us. We’ve some ways to go yet, so you’ll be riding with Jamie here.” The grey haired man spoke gruffly and almost angrily, as if he wasn’t pleased with the decision. Arcadia glanced at the red haired man beside her, thankful to have a name to call him. One thing that concerned Arcadia was what the grey haired one said she would be doing. Riding.

Arcadia had never ridden a horse before, let alone actually seen one up close. When she first got to this place, she had seen them at a distance and so she didn’t realize how large they actually were.

“Come on. Up ye get.” The grey haired man said, coming up behind her and pushing her towards the horse.

Arcadia flinched violently, and wiped around to grab his arm. Every man in the camp stopped suddenly, watching. Arcadia gripped his arm tightly, applying pressure to the inside of his wrist rendering it useless for the time being.

“Don’t touch me.” It was a quiet warning, cold as ice. She sensed a little trickle of fear run through his veins, but immediately it was gone. Once she loosened her grip of his wrist, he yanked his arm back and stood rigidly.

“Then get up on your own.” He spat at her and turned to walk over to his own horse.

Arcadia watched him for a moment longer, and then turned back to the horse with Jamie on it. He reached out his good hand towards her as she walked up along side the beast.

“Place your hand here on the horn, your left foot in the stirrup, and jump up as hard as you can.” Jamie explained, pointing to here and there.

A little weary of the horse, she grasped the knobby thing Jamie pointed at and placed her foot in the little hook thing by his foot. He was sitting back a bit, so that meant she would be sitting in front. Careful not to kick him in the face, she gracefully pushed off her feet and pulled herself up and over the back of the beast. She carefully lowered herself down between Jamie and the knobby thing.

Jamie looked at her in amazement at how she mounted the horse so quickly for a lady. Clearly she was strong, but Jamie hadn’t realized just how much. He turned his head towards Murtagh and raised his eyebrows a bit. Murtagh’s burly face betrayed nothing except for a small grunt before urging his horse forward.

Arcadia could feel the warmth from Jamie’s body against her, his chest solid. His arm snaked around her to grab the reins to lead the horse.

“Are you cold at all?” Jamie asked, his breath brushing past her ear. She suppressed a shiver.

“I’m fine.” She replied, shaking her head. 

After that, it was a silent ride. No one spoke much, and if they did, they spoke in Gaelic. Not that it mattered, since Arcadia could understand it, but she made no notion that she was even listening. She learned that the grey haired man’s name was Dougal, and he was clearly the leader of the group. Then there was Rupert, whom she healed, his friend Angus, Murtagh, kinsman to Jamie, a boy named William, and a few others. They were heading to a place called Leoch, and based on their estimations they would be arriving early tomorrow morning, which meant that they were going to ride throughout the night. Arcadia didn’t mind much, seeing as she didn’t really have a choice, but she was looking forward to being indoors once again. And based on how they were talking, it wasn’t a war tent either.

It was a peculiar thing to ride a horse, something that Arcadia didn’t like much. She could feel the heartbeat of the beast under her, the strain on its muscles and back with the weight of two people. Her legs were becoming stiff, and she shifted slightly in her seat, trying to keep some semblance of space between herself and Jamie.

“We’ll stop in a bit. To rest the horses and stretch.” Jamie said suddenly, catching her discomfort. He also shifted in his seat a bit, rearranging his shoulder to ease the pain.

Arcadia could sense his pain grow from the jolting ride. Without really registering her own actions, she laid her hand on top of Jamie’s shoulder and healed it a bit more to relieve some of the pain. It would still be there, but just less uncomfortable, and more manageable.

He sighed in relief and surprise. “Why did you do that?” he asked quietly.

Arcadia didn’t respond, just took her hand away from his shoulder and kept her head forward. Why had she done that? It was wasteful and unnecessary. She wouldn’t have done it any other time, so why now? She let it go, writing it off as lack of sleep and disorientation, although she knew she had experienced worse.


	7. The Looming Stone Building

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group reaches Castle Leoch. Arcadia meets some new people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to update. Writing blocks are a bitch.   
Also, majority of the conversations between the characters from DG, and the Outlander TV show, are from the TV show. i don't know how to write the dialect or speech patterns, so I'm using closed captioning to learn! lol. Thus, it isn't plagiarism, but it is close examinations of the language and writing that is used within the story in order to provide a closer and clearer story telling. :) 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated, 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

The journey to Leoch was tiresome but uneventful. They stopped once to rest the horses and the men, but then kept pushing forward. Arcadia kept quiet the whole way there, unwilling to let on just how tired and confused she was. Despite everything that she had gone through since she arrived, she hadn’t taken the time to really let the reality sink in, without panicking.

Her confusion only increased as the group entered a cleared field, and some distance was a large structure. Arcadia sat up a bit straighter as they approached the building. It was like nothing she had ever seen before. It was made of old, rough stone, and was small in comparison to some of the buildings she had lived in. But it seemed a lot sturdier than a tent, so for that, she was grateful. As the group made their way down the path, Arcadia looked around her. There were men and women working around the walls of the outer part of the building, using tools and instruments Arcadia didn’t recognize. She gazed cautiously at everyone, because she could feel them all looking at the group. At her. She swallowed hard as they passed under a large gated arch, and felt Jamie move his arms sharply around her. He led their horse to a large wooden structure, and passed the reins to another man.

“Do you need help down, lass?” Jamie asked, his voice coming close to her left ear.

Suppressing the slight shiver his breath caused, she shook her head. Carefully, but quickly, she hopped down from the horse, and landed in the mud. Her boots were still dry, thankfully, but they were very dirty. Unhelpfully, her mind thought about cleaning them in that moment as she took in her surroundings. She mentally chided herself. There were more important things to worry about than cleaning her boots. Arcadia shrugged off her random urge to remove her boots and turned back towards Jamie. He had climbed down off the horse as well, and was undoing her pack from the side bag. She reached for it gratefully, and slung it on her back. She felt better with her back protected, especially given the fact that she was now surrounded by many people. She could hear heartbeats being to pulse loudly and fast as they noticed her. It was a little unsettling, but she focused on Jamie and his own heartbeat. Not that she felt much safer with him, but he was the only one that didn’t look at her like she was a threat anymore.

“Dougal!”

Arcadia turned her head a bit towards the sound of a man shouting. She saw a tall bald man walking up to the grey haired one named Dougal.

“You’re back early, man! We hadna thought to see you before the gathering.”

Dougal approached the man, reaching out a hand to clasp him on the shoulder, “Aye, well, we’ve had some luck. Some good, some bad.” He explained to the man before quickly moving off towards the building.

The bald man simply nodded his head, before something else caught his eye.

“Rupert! Ye great fat fart, what have you done to my Peggy now?” he stalked over to Rupert and his horse.

“Let me be, old rat. I don’t need you squalling in my ear.” Rupert replied with a grimace.

Arcadia tuned out the conversation as it became a squabble between the two men. She looked around her again to take in the scene. There were men milling about, doing odd work, and there were children running around, laughing. Their laughter made Arcadia pause for a moment. She had never been in a facility where children could run around so freely, laugh so freely and openly, like these children were doing. Children within the military facilities were disciplined to be quiet and obedient. Arcadia rarely ever saw other children outside of the facilities, nor did she ever get the chance to go out herself. Not that she ever planned or wanted to, but the idea that somewhere, children could run around being children was almost a foreign concept to her.

She glanced up the tall tower that stood in front of her, and as her gaze landed on a window, she saw movement within it. She saw the shadowed figure of a man with long hair, but she couldn’t discern his features.

Suddenly, there was a loud yelling ringing in the small area. Arcadia tensed and her hand clenched. Jamie saw her movement and raised a cautious hand towards her,

“Easy.” He said quietly.

“Rupert, m’dear! How good to see ye!” An older woman, stout and fat came rushing out from a doorway off to the side, practically running towards Rupert. Rupert grinned hugely and opened his arms wide. They embraced tightly, the woman’s face bright and shinning with happiness. She placed a loud, wet kiss on his cheek.

Pulling away from each other, the woman placed a gently hand on his face, before nudging away towards the house.

“Ye’ll be needing breakfast, I reckon!” She addressed everyone in the group that was still in the area. “Plenty in the kitchen! Away in and feed yerselves.” She thrust a thumb towards the door behind her.

The men quickly made their way inside. Arcadia noticed that Jamie didn’t move just yet, his eyes still watching Arcadia. Arcadia glanced at him, partially to assure him that she was fine, but partly to reassure herself that she was fine as well.

“And what do we have here?” the woman asked.

Arcadia knew the question was directed towards her. Instinctively, Arcadia tensed again, pulling down her mask on her face to keep her emotions of unease and discomfort away. She looked at the woman, and the woman looked at her. Arcadia tracked her as she came closer, looking her up and down. Arcadia had never felt subconscious about her body, but the way the woman was looking at her, Arcadia felt a slight tinge in her stomach that made her want to crawl away.

Jamie cleared his throat at that moment, and turned towards the woman. “This is Hark, Mistress Fitzgibbons.”

“Hark?”

Jamie walked over to Mrs. Fitzgibbons, and spoke quietly to her, “It’s the only name she has given. We found her on our way, and Dougal said we must bring her along with us. So…” Jamie trailed off.

“So…” Mrs. Fitzgibbons repeated, her eyes glinting knowingly. She looked back at Arcadia, and looked at her hard.

“Well… Hark.” She said, as if the taste of her name was awful on her tongue.

Jamie and Mrs. Fitzgibbons shared another look, before Jamie moved off a bit and Mrs. Fitzgibbons turned to face Arcadia fully.

“Come with me. We shall find you something to eat.” Mrs. Fitzgibbons raised her hand to reach for Arcadia’s shoulder.

Arcadia immediately stepped back, and moved her arms out of the woman’s reach. She shook her head slightly as she stared daggers at her.

Mrs. Fitzgibbons recoiled a bit at Arcadia’s sudden movements. Jamie had stilled as he watched the ordeal. His eyes widened when he saw Arcadia’s hand behind her back, as he knew, unbeknownst to Arcadia, that was where she kept her knife.

He quickly stepped forward to place himself between Mrs. Fitzgibbons and Arcadia. “Easy lass. She’ll do ye no harm.” He whispered to Arcadia, his breath harsh, clearly trying to stop the situation from escalating.

Arcadia kept her gaze fixed on Mrs. Fitzgibbons for another moment, but then she flicked her eyes to Jamie. Clenching her jaw slightly, she moved her hands back to her side.

It was a short, tense moment between the three, and had caught the attention of a few men around them. Arcadia drew in a breath, stopping herself from reacting to the unfamiliar stench that filled her nose. She looked at Mrs. Fitzgibbons carefully, and then slowly released her breath.

“Sorry,” she whispered curtly, folding her arms across her chest. She hadn’t meant to react that way, but from the look on Jamie’s face, Mrs. Fitzgibbons was someone important and worth protecting. But it also seemed that Jamie was also willing to protect her too, which put Arcadia both at ease and at odds with the situation.

Mrs. Fitzgibbons stared at her for another moment before slowly nodding her head. “Aye, well. I willna touch ye, if that causes ye trouble.” Slowly, she gestured towards the door, motioning for Arcadia t follow her. Arcadia glanced at Jamie, who nodded, and she moved forward.

They followed Mrs. Fitzgibbons through the door, and they turned down a long hallway. The hall was made of stone, with lit wooden torches lining the wall every few feet or so.

As they walked, Mrs. Fitzgibbons turned her head to call back to Jamie, who was following closely behind Arcadia.

“And what of you, Jamie?”

“Och, I’m fine.”

“Good. No harm done?”

Mrs. Fitzgibbons turned around a corner, and lead them to a large set of stairs, also made of stone. Arcadia kept a mental picture of the layout of the place as she went.

“No,” Jamie said shortly.

“He dislocated his shoulder.” Arcadia supplied quietly, but it seemed to echo against the walls.

And echo it did, for Mrs. Fitzgibbons stopped walked and whipped around. Arcadia tense for a second before she realized that Mrs. Fitzgibbons was staring angrily at Jamie.

“And ye say that’s fine? No harm done?” her voice was a bit shrill as she asked, no demanded, the questions from Jamie.

Jamie winced a bit, but hid it quickly with a small smirk.

“Truly, I’m fine. Hark patched me up.” Jamie explained, nodding his head towards Arcadia.

Mrs. Fitzgibbons then turned her attention to Arcadia. “You?”

Arcadia didn’t feel the need to answer verbally. She just stared at her for a second before shifting her eyes away.

“Are you a charmer then?” she paused, “a Beaton?”

Arcadia raised an eyebrow at her questions, not having a clue what those words meant. So, in reply, she simply shrugged and shifted her feet uncomfortably. The scrutiny of this woman’s gaze was unsettling to Arcadia, something that rarely ever happened, and she was usually the one doing the unsettling. So, shaking off her discomfort, she pulled her head up and stared back at Mrs. Fitzgibbons with her face passive and shut off, pulling down her mask like she normally did. The two others felt the shift of Arcadia’s posture and attitude, but didn’t say anything. Instead, they simply continued the walk up the stairs.

They continued in silence, until they reached a large, dark wooden door. Mrs. Fitzgibbons pushed it open and strode in. Arcadia followed somewhat hesitantly, but then her nerves settled when she saw it was a room. Clearly, it was a bedroom, with a bed with wooden posts at the four corners, a table and chair at one end of the room, and a large stone hole in the wall. Arcadia watched as Jamie and Mrs. Fitzgibbons placed large pieces of wood into the hole in the wall and started a small fire. Soon, it was so large that the fire licked the stone walls inside, blackened from previous use. Arcadia could feel the warmth radiating from the fire, and she felt a small shiver crawl down her spine. She hadn’t realized how cold she was, and being inside the large stone building had made Arcadia aware of her exhaustion. Despite her abilities to stay awake for long periods of time, the amount of traveling and her world being flipped upside down, her body and mind were so beyond exhausted.

Mrs. Fitzgibbons had left the room for a moment, but she was back quickly with a large bowl filled with liquid, water Arcadia guessed, although she still reeled at the idea of water being so readily available.

“Right, well. Call out if you need anything,” Mrs. Fitzgibbons said, as she placed the bowl on the table. She clasped her hands together, looking at Jamie, and then Arcadia.

Arcadia cleared her throat, “Thanks.” It was short, quiet, but at least Arcadia knew that she needed to express some gratitude for their kindness.

Mrs. Fitzgibbons nodded, and started to make her way towards the door. But before she left entirely, she turned back to Arcadia, her face curled into a small smile.

“Everyone calls me Mrs. Fitz. If you like, you may also.” She left before Arcadia could answer, but something inside Arcadia warmed at the nickname.

Then it was just Jamie and Arcadia, standing in the room around the fire. Arcadia turned towards Jamie after a moment and looked at him. But not looking at his face, she began looking at his body, assessing for any other damage that may have been missed the first time around. She didn’t see anything that would require her attention, so she was satisfied enough to relax a bit.

“What are ye looking at?” Jamie asked quietly.

Arcadia was startled out of her thoughts when Jamie spoke, her gaze slowly moving up his body to his face. “You. Just checking for any more wounds.” She explained.

“Just by looking at me?” Jamie asked. His voice almost sounded like he was teasing her, faintly reminding Arcadia of the times when Dannick would tease her for her intense staring.

Tears sprang up to her eyes at the thought of Dannick, but she quickly blinked them away. She nodded in response to Jamie’s question, but then quickly moved towards the table to hide her face. She didn’t need him to see her cry, if she couldn’t get it under control. She gently removed her pack from her back, and placed it on the table. It was dirty and there was a tear near the shoulder. Arcadia frowned at bit, her fingers playing a bit with the frayed material. How was she going to fix it here?

While she was musing about her back, Jamie moved to sit on the chair next to the table.

“Are you all right?” Jamie asked quietly, tilting his head towards Arcadia to look at her face.

She turned away slightly, unwilling to let him see her pain, because it was rearing up with more force than she had been prepared for. She swallowed hard, pushing down the rising cry that she could feel crawling up her throat. It was painful, it was searing, but she managed to finally push it far down enough to be able to look back at Jamie.

“Fine.” Her voice was tight, but firm and unwavering.

He looked at her for another moment, before a determined look took over his features. He stood slowly, and without looking away from Arcadia, he took off the belt holding his arm to his body, and he began to remove his coat. Arcadia’s brows knitted together in confusion as she watched this man begin to undress before her. Once his jacket was off, he lifted his white shirt from his belt that was holding up his skirt, and with a slight hesitation, he pulled it up and over his head. His hair was a bit messed from the shirt, and his chest had a light feathering of red hair. For Arcadia, having seen plenty of naked chests, both wounded and not, she was surprise to feel her mouth go dry. Jamie was _built_. She knew he was fairly healthy overall, giving the assessment she did of him in the field, and in the building, but she hadn’t really seen his body before. She looked at him for a second before looking up at his face, a slight raise of her eyebrow to hint at her non-verbal question.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie slowly turned around.

Arcadia inhaled sharply through her nose at the sight.

Jamie’s back was crisscrossed with scars, both large and small, long and short. It was healed, but some of the scars looked angry, having been previously infected before finally healing. Arcadia reached out unconsciously towards his back, but held her hand far enough away so as to not touch him.

_He looks like me_, Arcadia thought to herself. She reached her other hand towards her neck, rubbing it slightly, towards the base of her neck, where the scars began. Touching them sent shivers down her spine. Not that she could feel them per se, but rather, the memories of how they were put there flashed in her mind.

“The redcoats.” Jamie said suddenly, quietly, interrupting Arcadia’s thoughts.

He turned around to face her as he spoke. Arcadia remained silent, bringing her hands back down to her sides.

He continued, “Flogged me twice in the space of a week. They’d have done it twice the same day, I expect, were they not afraid of killing me.” Jamie scoffed, a half grimace, half smirk on lips. His voice deepened as he continued, “There’s no joy in flogging a dead man.”

Arcadia looked at Jamie, watching his face with a new interest. She nodded slightly in agreement. There was no joy in flogging a dead man, something that she was very well acquainted. The few times that she had been captured during the war had left her battered and bruised, so much so that she could hardly recognize herself.

Jamie saw her movements, and spoke up once again. “The first time was for escaping Fort William. And the second was theft. Or at least, that’s what the charge sheet read.” He cast his eyes down, the half smirk, half grimace still on his face. She knew he was trying to lighten the severity of his pain, of his scars, but Arcadia knew deep down, down to her bones, just how not funny such a thing was. It was torture, it was pain unlike anything she had ever felt before.

They watched each other for a moment, in a companionable silence. Arcadia was mentally struggling with the idea of revealing anything about herself to Jamie, both because it was her story to tell, and because she didn’t know what she could say. He already knew that she was different, but to explain how she got her own scars, to explain aspects of her life that would be unfathomable to someone like Jamie.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. Still looking at Jamie, she swallowed hard, and then cleared her throat.

“I… I was eighteen was they took me.” She said quietly, watching his reaction. His eyes widened a bit, eyebrows raised, but remained silent. It was a few more beats before she gathered enough courage to keep talking.

She clenched her jaw for a second, and then continued, “I was held for two weeks, and whipped within an inch of my life.”

Jamie let out a breath he had been holding, something Arcadia hadn’t realized or noticed.

“That was the first time,” she took a deep breath in, “there were three more after that.”

Jamie’s face scrunched as if in pain, probably because he knew just how much it hurt to have it happen once, let alone more than that. And three separate times? He looked at her once again, before nodding his head, and putting his shirt back on. He winced a bit at the twinge in his arm, and before Arcadia could really think about it, she reached forward and placed her hand on his shoulder, and healed it completely.

Jamie looked at her with astonished eyes, but grateful.

“Thank ye, lass.” He whispered.

Arcadia simply nodded in response, and then lowered her hand.

“I’ll leave you to rest for a bit. I’m assuming that Dougal has spoken to Collum about you, and he’ll want to speak with you tomorrow.” Jamie stated, picking up his jacket and belt from the chair. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He began to walk away, but stopped after a few paces, and then came back to where Arcadia was standing.

“I know I don’t know you, but I can tell you’re a kind woman, with a good touch.”

They stood facing each other, Arcadia trying to keep her breath steady.

“You need not be scared of me. Nor anyone else here, so long as I’m with ye.” He voice was low and serious, trying to comfort Arcadia.

“I’m not. I don’t need your help.” Arcadia replied, trying to sound confident.

“Just remember that you’re unknown, in a place that is very weary of the unknown.” Jamie stated as a matter of factually. “Watch yourself, when I’m not around.”

He reached his arm to touch hers, but not actually touching. Arcadia felt a sudden urge to reach out as well and touch his arm and return, but she held herself back from the temptation.

“Sure.” She replied curtly, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Jamie nodded, retracting his hand, and left the room.

Arcadia sighed heavily, relieved to be alone for the first time since she got here. She looked around the room again, her gaze landing on her bed. She moved towards it cautiously, and gently reached her hand to touch the sheets. It was both soft and rough to the touch, but one thing that Arcadia noticed was that it felt like it was warm. She pressed her hand down a bit more onto the mattress and noticed that it was made from straw and some sort of stuffing, not like anything she had seen before. The material must have been made with something that had long since stopping being used, or even produced. Carefully, she moved around the side of the bed and pulled up the side of the covers. It was a pale off-white colour, and was much heavier than she had anticipated.

Letting the cover drop again, she leaned down to unlace her boots and slip them off. She peeled off her jacket and threw it on the table on top of her pack. Turning back towards the bed, she lifted up the covers again, and sat on the side of the bed. It was soft and fairly comfortable. She scooted back until she was fully on the bed, and then exhaustion hit her full force. She couldn’t keep her eyes open as she leaned down into the soft covers. It was warm and lovely, and it was a level of comfort that Arcadia had yet to experience in her short life.

Within a few seconds of her placing her head on the soft, fluffy pillow, Arcadia fell into a deep sleep.


	8. Dress to Impress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia is rudely awakened by Mrs. Fitzgibbons, but then slowly they work together to help Arcadia blend in a bit more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello,   
It is my hope and goal to upload a new chapter every Monday or so, EST. I will try my best to stick with this goal, but don't hate me if I can't get a new chapter each time, please and thank you. 
> 
> Feedback is appreciated!!
> 
> Thank you kindly,

Arcadia’s world tilted as she was suddenly jolted to consciousness. There had been a loud knock on the door, and a heavy creak as it swung open. Arcadia scrambled out of the sheets she was in, her eyes wild with fear as she leapt from the bed towards her pack. She grabbed her knife from its hiding place, and whipped around to face the person who had come into the room. There was a sharp cry from the intruder, and Arcadia blinked a few times to rid her eyes of sleep.

Mrs. Fitz stood there, mouth agape and bottom lip trembling. Her eyes were wide as she looked at Arcadia, who’s hair was wild about her face, her eyes set with a deadly stare.

Arcadia saw Mrs. Fitz gulp forcibly, before cleaning her throat, “I was just coming to get you up.” Her voice trembled as she spoke.

Arcadia blinked at the woman, remembering all that happened yesterday, and then slowly lowered her weapon. She rolled her shoulders a bit, and straightened up. Looking down a bit, she shook her head a bit.

“Sorry. Force of habit.” She mumbled, carefully putting back her knife into her pack.

Mrs. Fitz was still shaking a bit, but she took a deep breath and watched Arcadia closely. Arcadia didn’t like the feeling of being scrutinized by this woman, but she knew it was more out of fear than curiosity. When Mrs. Fitz was settled enough, she took a deep breath.

“You slept near the whole day. Tis’ nearly five o’clock.”

Arcadia didn’t say anything, but watched as Mrs. Fitz began to cautiously move around the room, keeping as far away from Arcadia as she could. Arcadia noticed as Mrs. Fitz bent down to tend to the fire, there was a bowl of liquid set beside it.

“Have some hot broth for ye, by the fire.” Mrs. Fitz explained, as she moved towards the bed to pull back the dirty sheets.

Arcadia instantly felt a twinge of guilt as she looked at the sheets. They were covered in dirt and mud from Arcadia’s clothes, which she hadn’t changed out of since the river. She frowned a bit as Mrs. Fitz just simply rolled them up and to place them near the door.

Mrs. Fitz then brought in a large jug accompanied with an even larger bowl. She placed them down beside the fire, but then quickly walked out of the room again. This time she brought a bundle of cloth and set it on the table. Once she settled the items down, she turned towards Arcadia. She didn’t look like she was happy about something, but Arcadia couldn’t place what. But, of course, she wasn’t exactly comfortable with what was happening either.

“Come along then,” Mrs. Fitz snapped, gesturing for Arcadia to come closer to her and the fire.

Arcadia stared at her with a slight tilt of her head.

“We’ve got to get ye washed a bit, and dressed.” She explained, her frown on her face becoming for pronounced, and Arcadia recognized the annoyance that flashed across her face.

Arcadia glanced down at the cloth on the table and realized it was clothing. But it didn’t look like anything she was used to, and when it finally dawned on her, she looked down at what Mrs. Fitz was wearing. She immediately shook her head.

“Not wearing those.” She stated firmly, making a small gesture toward the clothes on Mrs. Fitz and the table.

Mrs. Fitz’s face morphed into surprised at her words, but then quickly shook her head as well, tutting as she did, “Ye must. What do you call that? she asked, as she flung her hands towards Arcadia’s clothes.

Arcadia glanced down at herself and, to her, there was nothing wrong with what she was wearing. It was useful, comfortable, and served a purpose. But then she thought about the time in which she was living currently, and it made her pause. She looked back up to Mrs. Fitz and frowned. She needed to compromise on the dress, because she didn’t want to be without her pants, or her boots.

Thinking for a moment, Arcadia swallowed, and shifted from one foot to the other. “I’ll wear that part, and that part over mine.” She pointed to the bottom and top of Mrs. Fitz’s outfit.

Mrs. Fitz looked down at herself, and tutted again. She shook her head, but decided it was best not to fight Arcadia, especially if she had a weapon that she was more than capable of using. She reached for the items on the table, sorting through a few of them, before holding the first one up.

“This is the skirt. It goes around yer waist, and ties at the back.” Mrs. Fitz held it up, showing Arcadia where she needed to put her body through.

Arcadia took the skirt from Mrs. Fitz’s hands gingerly, and held it so she could step into it. It was a heavy material, rough against Arcadia’s skin, much like the sheets, but thicker. It was a dark green and subtly patterned. She touched the fabric gently as she pulled it up to sit on her waist. She found the strings and tied them around her front, twisted them, and brought them back around, tying an efficient knot. Once she was done, she looked at Mrs. Fitz for the next piece.

“Now, normally, you’d wear a corset, and the shirt, and a slip for that matter. Och, ye should really be wearing it all, but well, canna make you do it, I suppose.” Mrs. Fitz, her discomfort showing on her face clearly. Picking up the shirt, which was the same material and colour, she handed it to Arcadia.

Arcadia pulled it on, almost like a vest, and was about to start tying the strings are the front, but was stopped by Mrs. Fitz, who had raised her hand. She handed Arcadia a stiff cream coloured piece, and showed her where it went.

Arcadia raised an eyebrow, not seeing the usefulness of the piece, or how it could be comfortable. But she complied, seeing Mrs. Fitz raise her own eyebrow in response. This apparently was not a negotiable item. Arcadia placed it where she was told, and proceeded to tie the strings, pulling them tight to keep the thing in place.

Then Mrs. Fitz handed her two long tube like things, which Arcadia assumed her sleeves for the vest, considering that’s what Mrs. Fitz was wearing. She slipped them on, but couldn’t reach to tie them. Arcadia glanced at Mrs. Fitz, who slowly reached up to help her with the strings and secure the sleeves in place. She quickly stepped back once she was once, seeing Arcadia tense up the moment she tried to adjust anything on her.

Gesturing towards a tall mirror, Mrs. Fitz stood aside to let Arcadia look at herself. Arcadia couldn’t remember the last time she had looked in a mirror. She didn’t like to be reminded of what she looked like, when she could feel the scarring on her face, and the most likely look of death that constantly accompanied her, whether from exhaustion, or anger, no one could really tell.

The dress, or parts of it, fit her well enough, but she felt heavy, and slightly itchy, something that she hadn’t really experienced before, when it came to clothes. But she noticed that the heaviness of the clothes helped against the cold that had permeated into the room, despite the fire. 

“There.” Mrs. Fitz said, coming to stand in the mirrors reflection, “Now, you’re ready to be taken to himself. Well, mostly.” She said with a sigh.

Arcadia frowned, and turned towards Mrs. Fitz.

Before Mrs. Fitz could explain, Arcadia tensed as she heard movement near the door. She whirled around and took a defense position, a subtle one, so as to not alert the intruder, but she was ready for anything. A man came through the door with a knock, Murtagh, if Arcadia remembered correctly, and he simply tilted his head towards the door.

Arcadia watched him for a second, before glancing at Mrs. Fitz. She relaxed, but only a little bit, as she made her way around the bed to follow Murtagh out of the room. He led her down a set of stairs and a hall way, before coming to a similar door as hers. He opened the door and motioned her to walk in. She stepped over the threshold, and walked into a large room. She gazed around her, slightly shocked. There were books everywhere. It was rare to find books where she was from, but there were still a few in use. But mostly, it was tablets and implants that provided the information necessary for her work and missions. She walked up to a shelf with many books on it and carefully touched the surface of one of the spines. It was rough and made out of a weird texture that Arcadia couldn’t place. She breathed in deeply as she continued her perusal. She noticed that Murtagh grumbled a bit, but then left, leaving Arcadia alone in the room. She didn’t reply or see where he went, because she knew that wherever she was, someone important was going to come in and speak with her. This was a situation that she was familiar with, at least recognizing a chain of command.

Although, she was never really good at taking orders and following them. Most of the leaders in her government were incompetent assholes, who didn’t know their Evolved from their Gifted. She huffed in amusement at the memory, but was quickly serious again. This situation was unprecedented, and Arcadia had no idea what sort of leadership she was dealing with, or how they would receive Arcadia. So far, it had been alright, but if the leader of this building didn’t like Arcadia, and wasn’t like Dougal, she didn’t know what she was going to do.

She heard muffled steps outside of the door. She turned away from the books on the shelf and faced the door. She stood at attention, a force of habit, waiting for the door to open.

When it finally did, she saw something she hadn’t ever seen in her life.


	9. Relief from Pain and Uncertainty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia meets Colum Mackenzie, Laird of Castle Leoch, and man with a disease she has only read about in books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So.... my plan to post every Monday has already fallen to pieces. My apologies for not uploading on Monday. Here is a short ish chapter. The story is deviating from the plot of the TV show at this point, because Arcadia makes a connection with Colum in ways that was possible for Claire (obviously). But more stuff will happen :) please be patient :) 
> 
> Feedback is much appreciated! 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

A man stood in front of Arcadia, and he would have been tall. But when Arcadia glanced down at his legs, she knew that they were the reason he wasn’t anymore. They were bent out of shape, curved and fragile looking. Her eyes widened slightly as she watched the man hobble painfully through the door and into the room. As he walked, she analysed his body, looking for the source of this disfigurement, and saw that it was genetic, and incurable, even with Arcadia’s power. She could see the pain he was in, and the faint numbness that made his edges fuzzy, probably some form of pain relief. She continued to stand at attention as she waited for him.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and neither did she. He looked at her with somewhat kind eyes, but she could tell that he didn’t feel comfortable with her, nor did he trust her. The feeling was mutual.

“I welcome ye, Mistress.” The man spoke, his voice gruff and crackly, and thick with his Scottish accent. “My name is Colum Ban Campbell Mackenzie, laird of this castle.”

Arcadia’s implant translated the terminology as Colum spoke, and equated it to one of the higher ranking generals or admirals. She stood a bit straighter at the knowledge, and inclined her head.

Colum continued to look at Arcadia, and it was then that he noticed how she was standing. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he cleared his throat and gestured towards one of the chairs near Arcadia.

“Please.”

Arcadia glanced at the chair, and back at Colum. She didn’t find it appropriate to sit before a general, but seeing as she was in a different time, she put aside her discomfort and moved stiffly towards the chair and sat.

Colum moved as well, shuffling around a desk and sat down on the large chair behind it. Arcadia could see the pain as he sat, but didn’t say anything. She waited for him to speak again.

Colum sat back and looked at Arcadia once again, his mouth twitching just a little bit.

“It was my understanding that my brother and his men found you in some apparent distress.” Colum began.

Arcadia looked back at Colum with a stoic eye. She didn’t reply, only acknowledged her situation with a tilt of her head.

“But what I was also told, was that you attacked one of my men, killed a Redcoat, and then saved one of my men,” he paused for effect, raising his brow at her, “Is this true?”

Arcadia breathed in deeply, trying to decide how much of the truth she would need to provide, and what she could say that wouldn’t make her sound like a lunatic. The best way to lie, was to stick to the truth as much as possible. Conviction was everything.

“Yes.”

“And how, may I ask, did you, a lady, do all that?” It was a pointed question, one that made Arcadia’s spine tingle with a bit of adrenaline.

Steeling her nerves, she spoke again, “Attacked one while I was alone. The Red Coat attacked me, so I defended myself. I’m a healer, so saved Rupert.” Her voice was choppy but distinctive and to the point. She stared at Colum, who was clearly waiting for more. Gulping, she spoke again.

“I am trained for war. But I’m a healer first and foremost.”

Colum was still for a moment, but then slowly nodded his head.

“Why are you in Scotland?”

Arcadia didn’t respond. She sat, stock still, and she held her breath for a moment as she watched him watching her.

He shifted slightly in his chair, readjusting his arms to rest in front of him.

“How did my brother and his men come across you in the woods, dressed in scandalous clothes? And how is that you could heal Rupert so much, that he doesna have even a scar?”

His tone was light, but full of cautious curiosity. His gaze was unwavering.

Arcadia narrowed her eyes just a bit, before looking away from him completely. She needed to figure out what she was going to do next, hopefully something that wasn’t going to get her killed. Her hands were clasped in her lap. In her nervousness, she unclasped them and clenched them into fists. She looked around the room as she tried to quell the rising fear in the pit of her stomach. She hadn’t been this afraid in a very long time. The reason being most likely because she was always with her team, or at least Cane.

She needed to tell this man something, that would make him believe her, and begin to trust her. She was an unknown, and because of that, she was potentially dangerous. She was dangerous, but not against anyone in particular. Her loyalty was given only to those she cared for, trusted implicitly. Cane, Argo, Henry, Fox, and Dannick; her team was the only thing that she kept close to her. She didn’t know anyone here, didn’t know the customs, and could barely understand the language. Had she not had her implant, she would probably have been killed when they first met her.

She thought about her abilities, how she had been hunted and tortured for them. If what she did to Rupert got out, what would these people, in this time period, do to her?

Arcadia realized that she had been silent for a long time, as Colum shifted in his seat again, uncomfortable with remaining still for so long. Flicking her gaze towards him, she assessed his body and the pain he was in. It was constant and agonizing, and he was currently in need of another dose of whatever he was taking.

Breathing in, Arcadia made a decision, one that she hoped would keep her alive, at least for a little while longer. She moved forward in her seat,

“Permission to approach you, sir?” Arcadia asked, her military instincts kicking in when speaking to a superior.

Colum looked at her surprised. He leaned back a bit, but then straightened his spine and nodded, raising his hand slightly in ascension as well.

Arcadia rose from her seat, and walked around the desk. He was partly facing the desk, and her, so she gently, but firmly shifted his heavy chair to face her completely. If Colum was shocked at the show of strength, he didn’t let on. He was weary of her actions, but kept very still. When he was placed where she needed him to be, she slowly knelt in front of him. Looking at him with a serious face, she raised her hands in front of her.

“May I put my hands on your legs?” Arcadia asked quietly.

Colum grunted uncomfortably, shifting in his seat once again. It was clearly a sensitive subject, but one that she hoped to relieve for him, just for now. She could see him more clearly now, and it was worse the more she looked at him. The pyconodysostosis in his bones was irreversible. Based on the degradation of the legs and spine, he should have died years ago, but was holding on somehow. She couldn’t heal him completely, the disease would just take effect later on and slowly take over again. But she could heal him enough to take the pain away, give him another few years. She hadn’t ever seen a case like this in her life, just in her medical training texts. Not many people in her time suffered from diseases like this, mainly because there weren’t enough people to be effected by it.

She kept her hands raised as she waited for his consent. He watched her carefully, as if deciding on whether or not she was going to harm him. He blinked a few times, and then nodded, whispering his consent.

Arcadia nodded slightly in reply, and then slowly, she placed her hand to rest gently on this knee. It would be better to start at the spine, but she didn’t think he would be open to lay down for her at the moment, so the knees would have to do. She began the process of Stitching, but this time she wasn’t knitting back vessels and skin. She was going deep into the bones. Pulling at the fragile and brittle pieces. It was painful work, even for Arcadia. As she started, Colum suddenly when rigid, gritting his teeth against the pain, but save for a few grunts, he remained quiet. Arcadia pushed in a bit further, Stitching up and down his legs, bringing back some of their integrity and strength. It wouldn’t change the shape of them just yet, but it would relieve the pain and allow for further correction. If Arcadia was given the chance.

The healing took well over ten minutes, but as she came to an end of this particular session of healing, Colum wasn’t grunting or grimacing in pain anymore. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he watched her work, feeling the relief from the pain he had been living with for as long as he could remember.

Arcadia sat back on her heals and wiped at her brow. She was sweating a bit, healing such a difficult disease took a lot out of her. She glanced up at Colum, who was still in shock.

Slowly, he brought his hand to rest on his knee, rubbing the cap gently, before pressing more firmly. He huffed out a laugh, disbelief spreading across his face. He brought his other hand to his mouth, covering it as a smile of relief and joy took over. He laughed more heartily, and when he looked back at Arcadia, there were tears in his eyes.

“Thank you, lass. Heaven above, thank you.” Colum whispered, hand still on his knee, but the other now reaching for Arcadia’s face.

She backed a bit out of his reach, and turned her head. Instead, she offered her hand to shake. Colum seem unperturbed by the hesitation, but simply took her hand with both of his and held it tightly.

“How?” he asked, disbelief filling his voice.

Arcadia turned her head back to him and paused. What was she supposed to say? She just hoped her actions were enough not to get her killed.

“I’m a healer.” She said simply.

Colum nodded, smiling as he did. “Aye, that you are.”

They were silent for a moment, Colum still reeling from the relief that he was feeling. Arcadia took then to stand back up, and offered her hand to him again. Grasping it tightly, he stood up as well, shock on his face as he stood without pain or aching. He laughed again.

“You’ve healed me!” He said loudly.

Arcadia shook her head gently, “Temporarily took the pain away. This can't be healed completely.” His face fell in disappointment and confusion, and he dropped her hand. But Arcadia quickly continued speaking, “But the pain, I can take away.”

She hoped it was enough of a promise, a desperate need to have the pain taken away, that would allow her to life.

He looked at her as if he realized what her intention was, but the face of suspicion and distrust faded a bit.

“You can keep the pain away?” his voice gruff with emotion.

Arcadia nodded. “Enough healings, you can have years free of pain.” She explained, trying to convey the truth behind her words.

The silence in the room was deafening as Arcadia watched Colum think over this situation. In order to survive, whether for the rest of her life, or for some miracle Cane could find her, she needed to gain this man’s trust. She needed to show that her loyalty could mean something.

A few moments went by, and then Colum cleared his throat. He stood up straighter than he had when he had first walked in, and spoke.

“Well then. I offer the hospitality of our humble home.” Colum said, a small smile taking over his features.

Arcadia sighed internally, the fear of being killed or turned away fading in her stomach. She bowed her head slightly at Colum, “Thank you sir.” She stood up straight as well, putting her arms straight by her side, since she didn’t think her military salute would be understood or appreciated during this time period.

“Right. Now, I trust that Mrs. Fitzgibbons found you comfortable lodgings?” Colum asked, stepping from behind the desk and heading towards the door.

His walking had improved, and he moved about a bit to see what he could now do. It looked like a sort of jig, as he bounced a bit from foot to foot gingerly, testing their pain and strength. He was still a bit weak, what with the deformity, but the pain was gone. He smiled again as he looked back at her for her answer.

Arcadia nodded. “She was kind.”

“Good.” He gestured towards the door, “Dinner will be served soon in the hall. Shall I escort you down?”

Arcadia hesitated. While she was used to mess halls, she was uncomfortable sitting in a room full of unrecognizable people.

Seeing her hesitation, Colum reached out his hand towards her, in a placating gesture. “You will sit next to me and my wife Letitia. And Dougal.” He explained.

“Yes sir.” Arcadia replied, taking one step forward, instinctively giving Colum the opportunity to leave first and lead the way.

Noticing how she moved, Colum raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. He led the way out of the room and Arcadia followed, grabbing the door behind her and closing it with a heavy thud.


	10. Touch me, I Break You.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia deals with some people not wanting her in the castle. They are dealt with accordingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chunk. Please give me feedback if you have any questions or concerns about the story up until now. Anything and everything helps makes the story better.
> 
> Thank you kindly,

Two days passed after the first initial dinner Arcadia had with Colum Mackenzie. It had been crowded and loud, but somewhat oddly familiar to her. She ate as much as she could, but the food was rich, and a bit too much for her stomach. Afterwards, Arcadia asked to be excused to her room, and that was where she stayed for the past few days. She needed to think and process what was happening, and the only interaction she had was with Mrs. Fitz who brought her some food.

On the morning of the third day, Arcadia decided to go visit Colum in his office, to discuss further arrangements, whether she could stay, or if she was beginning to overstay her welcome. As she was walking up the rounded stairs, hoisting up the heavy skirt to avoid tripping, she heard a loud shout. She hurried up the stairs and was about to open the door of his office, when more shouting came from within. She stopped as she recognized the tone in which they were yelling, there were three people having an anger filled argument.

“We canna have this woman walking around like this! She could verra well be a spy!” a voice shouted. It was guttural and thick, which made Arcadia assume it was Dougal.

“Has she done anything to support such a claim?” another voice asked, but it was taut and Arcadia couldn’t recognize it.

“This is not up for discussion, Dougal. She will remain here for now, until we see the need for any necessary changes.” An authoritative voice called out. Colum.

“You’re just blinded by the fact that she can heal. That’s witchcraft if I ever saw it!” Dougal basically screeched. The tone of his voice was clearly trying to convince Colum of the danger Arcadia potential posed.

“Aye, she can heal. But it is more of a gift from God, than an evil omen!” Colum countered.

“It’s not natural.”

“Then why didn’t you kill her in the clearing back when she first healed Rupert?” the other voice asked, his voice orotund.

There was silence for a moment, but then the other voice spoke up again, “You swore not to kill her if she were to heal Rupert. She knew the risk of exposing what she could do, and yet she did it anyway!”

Arcadia listened closely as the voice spoke, and it slowly dawned on her who it was. Jamie.

There was a lower, more muffled response that Arcadia didn’t hear. All the voices quieted down, so Arcadia couldn’t hear them anymore. She stood still at the entrance of the door, debating as to what she needed to do now. Her plan had been to ask Colum to stay a bit longer at least, and she had confirmation that he wanted the same thing. But then there was Dougal. He clearly didn’t trust Arcadia, and part of Arcadia had that feeling from the moment they first met.

Arcadia knew that if she were to continue to stay here, there was the potential that she was no longer safe. Not that she had felt safe since she arrived in this time, but at least she could feel that some people were more open to her strangeness than others.

Turning on her heels before anyone from inside decided to come out, she bolted down the stairs, her skirts whooshing behind her. She ran straight to her room and closed the door. She had begun to rig it so that she could lock it from the inside, and no amount of force from the outside could break it in, without breaking the door itself. She had also changed the set up of the bed, opting to string up a large sheet across the bed posts like a hammock. It was similar to the set up she had in the barracks at the base facility. She and her team had personalized the barracks to be more comfortable and accessible for them, and Arcadia had always enjoyed sleeping in a hammock style bed. Plus, she didn’t like the lumpiness of the mattress, considering it was made of straw and fabric.

In the time that Arcadia was here, she had been able to ask Colum to look at some books, just general things in order to begin to learn this language, so at least the primitive version of it. Her translator was helping, but some words were missing, and the links in ideas were confusing sometimes. She found comfort in the process, something to occupy her mind. Her body was itching to move though, to train, to fight. To keep her body focussed, and thus, her mind as well. It would keep her calm. But now, being stuck in a time that didn’t allow women to do much other than be in the kitchen, or doing homey things, she was getting antsy. Every few hours or so, she would take off the heavy skirt and do some work outs, push up, crunches, pull ups, whatever she could think of, she did it. Once, Mrs. Fitz had knocked on the door during one of these work outs, and her face displayed bewilderment at her appearance. She had been sweaty and panting, but she took the food without a word, simply nodding and shutting the door again.

But now, Arcadia found no solace in her quiet room. She needed to breathe. She needed her team. She was frustrated of being out of her time, and she just wanted to go home. She had never considered the facility her home before, but this situation made her yearn for it.

She paced around her room, kicking the side of the bed with her booted foot. She let out a frustrated grunt as a bit of pain shot up her leg. She breathed it in, relishing in it for a moment. She sat down at the table afterwards and tried to think of a new plan.

****

A few hours later, Arcadia was still sitting in the chair, pondering. She had watched the sun get lower in the sky, and she knew that it was getting closer to supper time. She hulled herself up from her chair and adjusted her dress before walking to the door and unlocking it.

Making her way down the hall, and down the stairs, she heard the bustle of the kitchen staff preparing for supper. She walked past the turn that would take her to the kitchen and wandered towards the hall. Usually, there was some bread out on the main table, something that Arcadia could actually tolerate. She quietly made her way into the mess hall and found one last piece of bread. She grabbed it, broke off a piece and tossed in her mouth. Before she had finished swallowing, she caught movement in the corner of her eye and she turned her head to see.

Dougal was standing in the doorway of the main entrance of the mess hall. His hands were on his belt, very close to his sword.

Arcadia swallowed down her bread thickly, tucking the rest of it into one of the pockets in the folds of the dress. She kept her eyes on the man as he slowly stepped into the hall.

“I think it’s best time you took your leave of here, Hark.” Dougal spoke low, but clear.

Arcadia stood still as she waited for him to continue.

“Colum doesn’t know what is best for our people. He is blinded by your presence, and special… skill set.” He continued to speak low, but his voice was strong and firm. He stepped a bit closer. “So, it’s best if you leave here. Willingly… or by force, if necessary.” Dougal explained.

As he spoke the last few words, Arcadia saw four more men step into the room. Arcadia had heard their heartbeats as Dougal had been talking, but she didn’t let on that she knew they were there. She kept her eyes on Dougal, however.

“If Colum wants me to stay, I’m staying.” Arcadia replied, her voice clear and steady.

Despite the fact that she didn’t like to fight, or to have to defend herself, her nerves and body were ready for something engaging. She shifted her body to face Dougal head on.

Dougal narrowed his eyes at Arcadia, “As I said, willingly, or by force.” He repeated, with more vigor in his tone.

Arcadia straightened her back and lifted her head. There were soft noises now coming from outside of the hall, which signaled the movement of people coming in for supper. Either Dougal was going to do this now, or wait until after, when it was dark. For Arcadia, she knew that in either case he was going to fail. 

The shift in her stance was all that Dougal needed to know that this was going to be a forceful and public action. He nodded towards the men around the room to move towards her. She listened to their breaths as they began to approach her. One man stepped more quickly than the others and reached for her left elbow.

“Touch me, I break the hand,” Arcadia warned.

The man scoffed and took hold of her arm.

Quick like a snake, Arcadia whipped her right hand around her body, and gripped the man’s wrist tightly. Twisting her body away from him slightly, she applied force on the arm and brought up her left hand to break the wrist entirely. It took a matter of seconds, but the shocked, bug-eyed look on the man’s face slowly morphed into a frightened, pained one. He howled as he clutched his wrist.

None of the other men moved for a moment, as Arcadia took this time to undo the ties on her skirt and let it fall from her waist to reveal her pants underneath. She stepped out of it and brushed it aside with her foot. Standing straight again, she raised her head towards the men, looking at them one by one.

“Touch me, I break you,” Arcadia warned again.

Dougal huffed in frustration and annoyance as he glanced at the howling man and his broken wrist. He nodded towards the other man, “Grab her and get her out of here, before she causes a scene.” He spat.

Arcadia waited for the men to move. By the way they moved at the same time, she assumed that she wouldn’t be able to take them on all at once. How wrong they were. She had been captured too many times to be taken by surprise like this. She was not going to let them take here anywhere.

The remaining three men rushed her suddenly, reaching for her to grab her arms and body. She chose the one to her right, quickly pushing his hands away and stepping into his space to hit him straight in the throat with stiffened fingers. Using her momentum, she stepped towards the next man quickly and struck him in the abdomen, making him bend over with a rush of air, where she pulled her leg up and kicked him in the face. The third man came up behind her and grabbed her shoulder. She shifted her body weight, and bend her knees a bit to be situated under his arm, where she grasped his hand, and twisted. She pulled herself to her full height and pulled his arm straight down in front of her. She heard a sharp snap, and the man shrieked. Using his pain, she lifted his arm again, and moved her body in order to flip him over, making him land on his back, hard. The air was knocked out of him. She looked up just in time to see the first man try and grab her again, but she gave him an elbow to the face, making his nose crack and start to bleed profusely. Before he could do anything, she was grabbed around her waist by the second man, and leaving her unbalanced. She swung her legs around his waist and brought her hands around to his head, her fingernails digging into the skin on his face, marking it and making it bleed. The man’s grip loosened around her waist, and she took the opening. She moved up his body, scrambling to get a better position, and when she did, she drove her elbow down on his head, hard, over and over. The man dropped to his knees and she unhooked her legs from his body. She stepped away from him, and gave him a swift kick to the face.

She had barely broken a sweat during this entire time, and when she looked up, there was a crowd of people in the doorway, watching her. Dougal was still standing there, but his face was slack with shock. She stood up straight and bushed her hair back away from her face.

“Touch me, I break you,” she said for a final time, looking at Dougal with murder in her eyes.

Dougal didn’t say anything, but he did manage to shut his mouth. The murmur of people grew, and there was movement. The crowd parted, allowing Colum to walk through, with Jamie in tow.

Colum surveyed the scene in front of him, Arcadia standing tall with four men either groaning and whimpering in pain, or unconscious. He looked directly at Dougal and his face was reddening.

“What is the meaning of this?!” he yelled, fury lacing his voice and echoing in the hall.

Arcadia glanced at Colum quickly, but brought her gaze back to Dougal.

“Willingly, or forcefully, right Dougal?” Arcadia stated, keeping her voice flat and her breath steady.

Colum visibly bristled, and he shuffled forwards into the hall. “Out. Now.” He bit the command at Dougal, coming up close to him, while continuing to look around him.

His eyes betrayed the confusion and intrigue, but he kept his face a mask of anger. Dougal gave a sharp side glance at Colum before turning on his heels and storming out of the hall.

Jamie had come up beside Colum and surveyed the damage as well. He had already had a glimpse into what Arcadia could do in a fight, and this time it had been without a weapon, just her hands.

“Well, by the looks of things, I assume you are all right, Hark?” Jamie asked, taking one step closer to her, but nothing more.

Arcadia looked at Jamie, but said nothing. Instead, she tilted her head and cracked it. She rolled her shoulders a bit and shifted her gaze Colum.

“If this,” she gestured to the men on the floor, “will be a common occurrence, I don’t want it.” Arcadia spoke loudly, making sure every one in the room heard her. “Anyone who touches me without my consent, I will break them.” Her voice was strong, and her gaze was steady.

Colum looked at Arcadia with wide eyes. “Are you threatening my people, Hark?” he asked, incredulously.

“It isn’t a threat if they listen.” She replied.

Colum bristled again, this time, his anger towards her. “You cannot threaten my people, Hark. I will no allow it.”

“Then tell me to leave.” She stated simply.

She knew that her departure was one thing that Colum didn’t want. She was a healer, in every way, so she was extremely useful to him. With the crowd of people now spilling into the hall, she knew that he couldn’t openly allow her to defy him, but he also wouldn’t be able to throw her out if he wanted her to stick around.

She could see the wheels turning in his head. His blood pressure was higher than when he entered the room, but he was calming down a bit more now. Sighing, he turned to Jamie. With a tilt of his head, Colum beckoned Jamie to come to him. They whispered for a moment, and Arcadia watched their body language. Jamie’s back straightened and he turned to look at Arcadia briefly, before nodding to Colum.

He walked over to where Arcadia had pushed her skirt, and bent to pick it up. He held it up for Arcadia and slowly approached her.

“I will no touch ye, but you need to come with me.” Jamie said firmly.

Arcadia looked hard at Jamie, but was grateful for his distance. She didn’t want to have to fulfill her promise and hurt him too.

“Hark. Please.” Jamie urged.

She reached out for the skirt and pulled it out of his hands. She quickly stepped into it, and pulled the strings around her waist. Once she was done, she looked at Jamie in the eye, and raised an eyebrow. Jamie nodded slightly at her, and led the way out of the hall. She followed him out of the hall, feeling every set of eyes watching her back.


	11. Knuckle Cuts and Visions of the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia is given a new home, and some time passes. But in that time, tensions are high and Arcadia finds a way to release it. And then she remembers, she understands where the pain is coming from.  
And a tender moment happens for Arcadia, one that she is confused about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!  
A bit early, but that's okay! Anyhoo, I hope you like this chapter. I am hoping to start moving things along a bit, so time will be passing fairly quickly. 
> 
> Any comments, or questions, let me know!
> 
> Thank you kindly,

Jamie led Arcadia out of the castle, taking the twists and turns with precise movements. Arcadia followed silently, watching him closely. She was ready for anything, but she was missing her pack, and it made her feel uneasy.

Suddenly, Jamie called out, and a little boy came running over. He looked at Arcadia with hesitant eyes, but soon focused on what Jamie was saying. They spoke low, so Arcadia couldn’t here, but quickly, the boy nodded and ran off into the castle.

Jamie glanced at Arcadia, who raised her brow in question, but Jamie didn’t reply. He simply tilted his head for Arcadia to follow. They walked out of the confines of the castle, walking around the walls towards a small hut. Arcadia slowed her steps a bit, unwilling to go into the place alone. She didn’t know if Jamie was sent to kill her, or just simply beat her. Either way, she wasn’t going to let it happen.

Jamie noticed that Arcadia was no longer right behind him, and paused.

“Lass, I’m no going to hurt you. I promised.” Jamie placated.

Arcadia folded her arms across her chest, and stood firm.

Jamie hung his head a bit with a sigh, and then looked up at her with slightly irritated eyes.

“Colum was planning on putting you up in this place. It is in need of some repair, but may be suitable for you. Clearly, you dunna like being in the castle, or at least being with others. So, this is a solution.” Jamie explained.

Arcadia relaxed a bit, but it was still precarious situation. However, she did like the idea of being in her own place. She just hadn’t thought it would happen so soon.

“Okay,” she replied firmly.

Jamie leaned back a bit in surprise, clearly expecting Arcadia to refuse, or fight him on the decision. Luckily, the boy returned, running a bit to reach them. He was carrying Arcadia’s pack with him, as well as another fabric bag filled to the brim. He was struggling a bit to keep them both off the ground, but he managed to make it. His face was red from exertion.

“Here ye go, Jamie!” he said in a high voice.

“Thank ye, lad. Now, go find Mrs. Fitz. She’ll get you set for some food,” Jamie said, reaching to grab both bags from the boy.

Nodding happily, the boy scampered off. Jamie stretched out the hand holding Arcadia’s pack towards her, waiting patiently. Arcadia swept it up swiftly, putting one strap over her shoulder. Already she was feeling more secure. Together, they walked the rest of the way to the hut.

Jamie pushed the door open and strode inside. There was still enough light out for Arcadia to make out a few things, but the light was fading fast. Despite how it looked on the outside, it was a fairly large hut. There was a place for a fire, a table with a slightly broken top, a chair, a place for a bed, and a large open area. She assumed it was more seats, or storage. She watched as Jamie set down the other bag, and set about starting a fire. Oddly, Arcadia felt at home in the place. It was cozy, despite being barren, but she could definitely work with it.

In no time at all, a fire was roaring in its place, and the chill of the oncoming evening was staved off.

Arcadia turned back to Jamie, who was now standing near the table, emptying out the bag. There was some food, bread and cheese, as well as a few other things. Arcadia assumed that since she was basically no longer welcome in the castle, she was going to have to miss dinner. It didn’t matter to Arcadia; she could survive off of her own rations for about two weeks. Once the bag was empty, Jamie folded it carefully and placed it inside his coat.

“Right. Some food for you. Mrs. Fitz will have young Angus bring you food for breakfast tomorrow,” Jamie paused, gesturing to the arrangement on the table. “There is also some blankets here for your bedding. I can go get you some straw to make a bed for the evening,” Jamie continued, tilting his head to the side, looking somewhat sheepish. “My apologies if it isn’t to your standards. The beds in the castle can be quite nice.”

Arcadia studied Jamie as he spoke. “I don’t like the beds. The material there will be fine.”

Again, Jamie was surprised, but Arcadia could tell he was confused. But he didn’t say anything. He simply nodded his head, before glancing towards the door.

“Well. I best be off. If you need to find me, I’ll be in the stables. They’re just over the hill to the east of the castle. Not long of a walk,” Jamie explained, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands.

Arcadia nodded in response, but didn’t say anything. She was suddenly overcome with a feeling her chest that she couldn’t exactly place. Uncomfortable with the feeling, she simply shook it off and nodded again.

Taking it as a sign to leave, Jamie left without another word.

*****

Arcadia stormed out of the doors of the castle, her anger coursing through her veins like fire. Her discussion with Colum had not gone well, especially when Colum had made the suggestion that Arcadia move from the hut to the surgery room below the castle. Arcadia had refused outright. She never wanted to be stuck in a place that appeared to be a dungeon, or a cage, ever again. She was stubborn, but Colum was even more so. It was this time that Arcadia felt her anger get the best of her. Colum’s reasoning behind the change, after a few days for the castle to settle down, and Arcadia offering to heal the men she had hurt that evening in the hall, were preposterous to Arcadia. She had begun to like living in the hut. She had fixed things in it with her own hands, much to the surprise of the men who had been sent to fix it for her.

Her first night in the hut, she had strung up the material into a hammock style and was right close to the fire. It was warm and cozy. In the morning, she ate the food Jamie had procured for her, and explored her hut, both inside and out. Later that day, while she was working at fixing things, a man of Colum’s had come to get her to have a discussion.

Every day since then, she would be summoned, and they would attempt to have a discussion as to what to do. Now, on day four of their back and forth arguments, Arcadia had had enough.

She wanted out. She wanted to go back to own time. Not because she wanted to go back to a war that she hated, but because she wanted to be around people she knew. Technology that she could rely on, knowledge that wouldn’t make or break her. She wanted Cane to be alive and come and find her. Or at least be trying to find her. 

Despite her somewhat docile personality after the scene with Dougal, her reputation for violence preceded her. No one spoke to her unless they absolutely had to, especially when they came to her to be healed. She felt a little guilty for hurting those men after a while, since they were only acting under orders. But she shrugged it off fairly quickly, not caring. She was getting tired of having to fight all the time, and establishing herself as someone not to be messed with suited her just fine.

Approaching the hut, she kicked open the door and walked in. Quickly, she removed the constricting skirts from her waist and let them fall down right there. She loosened the top, but kept it on against the cold. She began stretching out her legs, getting the muscles and blood to work together. She needed to release some of her anger before she could return to the castle. Without having her team around, mainly Cane or…, well, she did not keep her temper in check as well as she did when they were around. It was a learning curve, and a dangerous one. She reminded herself that she was in a different time, and at some point there would be someone who didn’t like her attitude and would kill her for it.

Rolling her shoulders, she stalked over to the padded beam that thankfully was not a supporting beam in the hut. She had taken straw from the barns to stuff into a sack, and lashed it to the pole so she could do some training and stress relief. She usually would work up a sweat in the hut, as it was large enough that she could do most of her regular training. The only thing that was lacking were wraps for her hands, but as time drew on, she got used to doing it without them.

The anger still fresh in her veins, she punched out with her right hand and hit the pad with a thud. The beam shook a bit under the hit, but held firm. She breathed in deeply before she let her left hand come up to punch the pad, breathing out as she did. Over and over, alternating between jabs, crosses, and hooks, she punched the bag with practiced precision, concentrating on her breathing and her feet. She could feel sweat dripping down her back the longer to continued. It was relaxing, having power over her body, over her mind.

A vision flashed before her eyes as she punched out again, shocking her to the point where she faltered and missed the pad, swinging into thin air. She quickly steadied herself against the beam, breathing heavily. The vision, the memory swam in front of her eyes. Flashes of Dannick’s face, his smile, sparring with her before… Arcadia choked back a sob. This had not happened in a long time. Every time she blinked, she saw his face. She could feel the tears running down her cheeks, not having realized that she had started crying.

_Why now? Why?!_ She thought furiously.

She brushed the tears away harshly, smearing blood from her now split knuckles onto her cheeks. She cried out loud, just a small whimper as she felt the feeling crest within her.

And then it hit her.

Today was the day that Dannick was killed. The day that she wasn’t able to fix him.

A sob tore through her throat. Her shoulder shook with the pain, unable to stop it. She stumbled to her knees, reaching her hand out to lean against the beam. Her head hung low, as the gasp between sobs sucked in air. More flashes of Dannick behind her eyes assaulted her. She shook her head to try and wipe them away, but the more she closed her eyes, the more she saw him. His face, his smile, his protective stare.

She leaned her body against the beam, cushioned by the pad, and brought her knees up to wrap her arms around them. She cried steadily now, letting out the release that she now realized that she needed. Ever since being here, and that first panic attack, she hadn’t cried once. She had kept it all in and just moved onto the next problem. It was a relief for Arcadia to let this happen in private. She was far enough away from the castle that her cries wouldn’t have alerted anyone.

That’s what she had thought.

Quietly, Arcadia heard a throat clear by the door. Her head whipped up and she saw the outline of Jamie.

“Hark?” Jamie asked, his voice filled with concern. He took a hesitant step into her hut, and when he saw that she only continued to cry, he walked right up to her.

Kneeling down in front of her, Jamie looked at Arcadia with gentle eyes. He was slightly concerned about the blood on her face, but he saw the blood on her knuckles and hands, so she hadn’t fought anyone. He hesitantly reached out a hand towards her arm,

“Hark? Don’t cry,” he cooed.

Arcadia leaned her head back, hitting the pad with a soft thud.

“What’s the matter, Hark?” Jamie asked in a quiet voice.

Trying to push past the feeling, Arcadia took a few deep breaths, but she hiccoughed a few times. She sniffed, and wiped her hand under her nose.

“Nothing.” Her voice was hoarse from crying.

Jamie gave her an incredulous look, but didn’t push the matter. He simply placed his hand onto her arm fully, waiting to see her reaction. Arcadia gazed down at the hand and slowly placed her own over his. Her lip trembled again, more tears building up in her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but the traitorous tears fell down her cheeks anyway, streaking through the blood. They stayed like that for another few minutes, Jamie slowly rubbing his thumb on her arm in a back and forth motion.

When Arcadia had finally stopped crying, she continued to hold Jamie’s hand on her arm. Licking her lips, which were now dry, she cleared her sore throat to speak.

“Today, my… my brother was killed. Never found his body.” Arcadia said in a small voice. She knew she couldn’t explain who or what Dannick was to her, but a brother was probably the closest thing to the truth.

Jamie’s eyes widened, but then softened in acknowledgement. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything for a moment, allowing Arcadia to grieve a bit more. He did, however, shift so that he was sitting on the ground more comfortably.

Cautiously, Jamie turned his hand to grasp Arcadia’s, watching her the entire time so that she knew he was not going to hurt her. He held up her hand a bit, turning it over this way and that,

“Did you do this?”

Arcadia nodded, glancing up at the pad above her head. Jamie looked at the spot and saw red marks imprinted on the fabric. His face scrunched a bit in confusion, looking between her hands and the pad. It dawned on him that she had been using it to punch, and he looked directly at her.

“Why did you hurt yourself? Why don’t you heal yourself?” Jamie asked, not accusingly, but more out of curiosity.

Arcadia shrugged. “Keeping up my training. And I can’t.”

“Why can’t you?”

“My gift doesn’t work that way.” she stated simply.

Although her response only caused Jamie to want to ask more questions, he refrained. He decided instead to focus on her other admission.

“Training for what?”

Arcadia met his gaze for a beat, but then looked away. “In case I can go home.”

Jamie shifted a bit on the ground, “And where’s home?”

It was a dangerous question, both for Arcadia and Jamie. If Arcadia told the truth, she could be committed as insane, so likely killed. If she lied, and said the wrong place, she would be killed, or imprisoned. Either way, Arcadia simply looked at Jamie with a careful glare, and said nothing. Jamie knew the look and conceded defeat.

It was a that moment that the both of them realized they had been holding hands the entire time. Arcadia slowly pulled her hand out Jamie’s grasp, and watched as his hand hung in the air for a moment, before dropping to his lap.

“I brought you some things from Mrs. Fitz. Food, and the things you requested of her,” Jamie said, switching topics to avoid anymore uncomfortable silence. He leaned over a bit to grab the bag her had dropped, and gave it to her.

She pulled it open and looked inside. There was a metal cup, a spoon, and an assortment of cheese and meats. Her mouth watered. She was becoming accustomed to the food here, barely using her rations anymore. It worried her that if she were to ever get back home, that she wouldn’t get to eat like this again. She pulled out a piece of cheese, broke off a piece, and offered it to Jamie. He took it gingerly from her fingers, the soft touch giving Arcadia slight shivers. He smiled softly before popping it into his mouth.

They sat there in silence, eating some more cheese and some meats. After a moment, Jamie reached into a pouch that was nestle on the front of his skirt, which Arcadia had learned was called a kilt, and pulled out a white roll of fabric.

“Here, let me wrap out hands. Keep them clean,” Jamie said, reaching out his hand for hers.

Arcadia stared for a second, before smirking with a small snort. “That’s my job.”

Jamie chuckled with her, “Well, tying these with one hand is hard enough. Let me.” Jamie asked again, more insistently.

With another small chuckle, she held out one hand. He took it gently in his hand and placed a piece of the fabric on her knuckles. He wrapped it around, tight enough that it wouldn’t move, but loose enough that it could heal properly. Arcadia watched intensely. She was unaccustomed to this kind of gentleness. Tenderness, almost. There was a little flutter in her stomach as he finished the knot with a slight grin on his lips, before moving onto her other hand. She held it up before he even had to ask. He did the same with that hand, the same tenderness. When he was done, Arcadia almost didn’t want him to let go.

There was a growing feeling on her cheeks that she hadn’t felt in forever. She was blushing.

She pulled her hand away, and she thought for a quick second, disappointment flashed in Jamie’s eyes. But he turned his face away too quickly for Arcadia to be sure.

“I have to get back to the stables. We’ve a new mare that needs training,” he hesitated a bit before continuing. “Please don’t hurt yourself anymore, Hark.”

His eyes were pleading, and Arcadia could only nod in response. She hadn’t meant to hurt her own hands. She usually stopped before that happened, but today had been a special circumstance.

Nodding in return, Jamie stood up briskly and straightening his coat.

“Right. Good night, Hark,” Jamie said, before turning towards the door.

Arcadia stood up as well, and spoke before she had the chance to think about it.

“Arcadia.”

Jamie turned back around, confused.

“My name is Arcadia.”


	12. Clutching a Wound Shut, Stumbling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new perspective, in both time and place. 
> 
> Walking and Stumbling, he cried out, "Arcadia!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. Mind has gone blank for what I need to do next, and I have lost my little notebook that has all my ideas in it!!! :( 
> 
> Anyhoo... hope you enjoy this little tidbit. :) 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

“Arcadia!”

His chest hurt, his sight was blurry.

“Hark, where are you!?”

He called over and over, stumbling, clutching his side from a wound that had pierced his abdomen. It wasn’t deep, but it hurt like hell, and was bleeding a fair bit. He grimaced as he continued to look around.

“Arcadia!!” He screamed again.

He had lost sight of her, after they had split up, and he was desperately trying to find her again.

His foot caught on a rock, and in his state, he fell down onto the ground, hard. Pain wracked his whole body as he tried to stand up again. He was exhausted, and his thirsty, but he couldn’t leave without Arcadia. He couldn’t. He had made a promise never to let her go.

He had promised, and he was never one to break his promises.

Otherwise, Dannick was going to kill him when he met him on the other side.

Cane shook his head, and pushed off the ground with a loud grunt. The air was thick and heavy with the smell of sweat, blood, and artillery fire. The two Elementals who had come out of nowhere, seemed to have known where Cane and Arcadia. They had been both so unprepared for such an attack, and it made Cane think that there hadn’t been two soldiers in need of rescuing in the first place. He had lost his pack during his fight with the Elemental. She had concussive wind powers, and she used it expertly against him. The air was sucked out of him, used to smother him, sent him flying – which caused him to land on top of some jagged metal pieces that pierced him – and finally, just held him down, burying his face into the ground so he couldn’t breathe, while the attackers escaped. At some point, he passed out.

When he came too, he looked frantically around, trying to see if he could see Arcadia. He had been so distracted and outmatched with the Elemental, he hadn’t had the chance to see what Arcadia had been up against, and when he couldn’t find her, he feared the worst. She had been captured too many times, and Cane knew that she would rather die than be held again.

He cursed himself as he continued his wanderings. Tears pricked at his eyes as his hope began to falter. He tried to swallow, but his throat was too dry. In the distance, he saw the truck that he and Arcadia had used to get there. He headed for it directly, and as soon as he got within range of it, his comm came on line.

“Cane, Hark, come in. This is Team Whiskey. Report. _Please_.” A voice crackled.

Cane coughed, and pressed his comm, “Cane here,” he rasped.

“Cane! Oh thank fuck,” Kam swore, his breath shaky even over the comm. “What happened to you? Where’s Hark?”

Cane wrenched open the door of the truck and pulled himself in. There was a small container of liquid, which he guzzled greedily. His throat was instantly soothed, and the nutrients in the liquid invigorated his body. He coughed again, clearing his throat, “Hark’s missing. Mission went sideways as he started to head back. Attacked by two Elementals. The one I faced off with was a Wind Breaker.” Cane sighed, as he brushed his hand over his face.

He turned on the truck, and quickly wheeled it around to head back to base.

“Was she taken?” Kam asked quietly, concern filling his voice.

“I don’t know. They came in quick and separated us. I’ve been looking for her ever since I woke up. I was knocked out by the Wind Breaker.”

“Are you ok?”

“Wounded, but Stitchable. Fucking tired. Kam, how long were we gone?”

“Two days. We were given strict orders to stay put. Apparently, major activity started around where you were, and we couldn’t go anywhere.” Kam explained, his voice still fairly low.

Cane narrowed his eyes. “Why are you whispering Kam?”

There was silence for a moment, but then Cane heard a sigh over the comm. “We were told to move on to other missions. If you turned up, great. If not...,” Kam trailed off.

Cane breathed in deep, “Are you going against orders right now?”

“Yes.”

Cane swallowed, his throat still thick but managed to work it. He shifted gears and took a different route, one that led away from the base, but still into friendlier territory.

“Kam, listen to me. When you get the chance, get the rest of Whiskey to leave the base. I don’t care how, or why, just get sent out. Make sure it is just our team. Meet me at Base Bravo in two days.”

“What are you thinking, Boss?”

“I’m thinking that we aren’t safe in our own base, Kam. Get out soon, and meet me. And until then, stay off the comms so no one can track us.” Cane explained, weaving his way on the dirt road.

“This line is secure. Think me an amateur, Cane?” Kam asked incredulously.

Cane smirked, “No, but I don’t want to take any chances. Got it?”

“Confirmed. Base Bravo, two days. See you soon Cane.”

Cane pressed his comm on, and focused on driving. His mind wandered back to Arcadia, thinking about how the Elementals had attacked. He went over the coordination in his mind over and over, trying to remember anything about what had happened. Some part of him remembered a flash of bright blue light, but he couldn’t be sure if it was real, or just a result of being kicked around. His Elemental had tossed him around like a doll, despite his own abilities. He shook his head. Whoever they were, they had been prepared, and were basically unstoppable. Cane clenched his jaw. He was going to find Arcadia, no matter how long it took. He would storm every base if he needed to. He was not going to let Dannick down, and he certainly wasn’t going to leave Arcadia alone.


	13. The Dirt Was No Longer Dry and Cracked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia experiences a memory of the worst kind. And then she watches children play, envious of the freedom, but happy to experience it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Please let me know if something doesn't make sense, or if there are any major typos! 
> 
> For more notes, please see the bottom (after you've read it though :P )
> 
> As always, feedback is always welcome and appreciated!
> 
> Thank you kindly,

_She stumbled as the man dragged her out of the house, pulling on her arm painfully. His grip was hot on her skin, bruising and blistering. She vaguely registered that he was an Elemental, but she didn’t focus on that. She tried to stop them, to get back into the house. She didn’t want to leave. She wanted to stay with her mother. _

_The man who was pulling her to the truck tugged her arm roughly again, causing her to fall, but because of the hold he had on her, she stumbled into his side, her feet dragging and scraping her legs. He yanked her back up, and she cried out. Her arm and shoulder burned at the strain. She could feel the pain course through her veins. _

_Her mind went blurry, fuzzy, as she tried to concentrate. The air was hot, and thick that she couldn’t suck in a breath properly. Her focus was pulled back when she heard a shout, and she looked behind her. Her mother was standing there, on the harsh ground just past the last step of the house. It had been worn down from the wind, and constant use. It used to be a solid block of stone, but over time it crumbled. She blinked as she tried to look away. She glanced back up at her mother, who was crying steadily, tears streaking her face as she yelled at the men. One man was holding her mother back, keeping her from running over. She wanted her mother to fight harder, she wanted to fight harder, so that they could stay together. She didn’t care if her mother told her to be strong, she wanted to stay, to be her wapanahkosis. _

_But she knew in the back of her mind that she needed to be strong. To stay strong, after. _

_‘After what?” she thought to herself, confusion filling her mind, blocking her vision, making it fuzzy again. _

_A moment slipped by, and she was suddenly pulled back, a harsh sound projecting around her mind. She cringed at the sound, and she looked back at her mother with fear in her eyes. But she was confused; her mother was still standing at the last step, the wind whipping up around her, causing dust to fly._

_Her mother reached out a hand towards her, calling her name. She heard her name on the wind, but it was faint, and she almost didn’t recognize it. Instead of thinking about it, she turned back to her mother, and she pulled against the man’s grip once more, wrenching her arm painfully, just to get a few inches back. There were tears falling down her face as she cried out for her mother. _

_Everything slowed down in the next moments. The man standing near her mother raised the gun. It glinted in the sunlight. It was small in comparison to what she had thought they looked like, in comparison to what she remembered, but it was still powerful, and deadly. The man raised the gun. The air was heavy. She couldn’t breathe. She twisted and yanked her arm, but to no avail. The man raised the gun. It glinted in the sunlight. Her eyes widened as she watched her mother. There was fear in her eyes, but not the right kind of fear. She tilted her head a bit, but she didn’t. She couldn’t move. She blinked, and the man was raising the gun again. Her mother looked at her with fear in her eyes. _

_“Turn away, Arcadia!” Her mother’s voice carried over the air, but it was muffled and unclear. It echoed around her mind, but she couldn’t look away. _

_She couldn’t turn her head away from her mother’s fearful eyes. She was crying, her mother was crying. _

_The man raised the gun._

_ She jumped and kicked, trying to get to her mother, to save her._

_“Turn away, wapanahkosis!” _

_“Arcadia,” a voice called. _

_The man raised the gun. _

_Her eyes were wide when the gun went off. There was no sound. There was too much sound. The loud, yet silent blast from the gun rang in her ears, echoing tortuously around her skull, filling every pore with dread and shock. _

_“Turn away…”_

_“Arcadia…” _

_She gasped, trying to pull air into her lungs, but she couldn’t. _

_Her legs gave out from under her, and she fell to the ground. The hand on her arm tugged again, but less painfully now. But too painful at the same time. She cried out and she blinked again. Her mother’s body lay on the ground, dry and cracked dirt that blew in the wind, hot and brutal._

_The man raised the gun. _

_“Nikawiy nimama!” the words echoed on the still air, although she couldn’t hear them, “Namona, Mama!” she screamed, her throat burning. _

_Hot tears spilled down her face, she could taste the salt as they glided down the creases on her mouth. She screamed and yelled, calling for her mother, who was on the ground, still and unmoving. The man raised the gun. It felt like her throat was bleeding, or had torn, with all her screaming. It echoed everywhere in her mind, screeching in her ears, yet deafening to the point of complete silence. _

_Her world was suddenly in motion, her hand bruising and bleeding as she hit the pane of glass at the back of the truck. She blinked at the pain, her mother on the ground, the man with the gun. Dust billowed as the truck sped away, obscuring her mother’s still body. The man with gun. The gun. The gun. _

_The dirt was no longer dry and cracked. Red soaked into it, making it slightly muddy. Dust blew into the red, streaking it with white and brown, covering it gently as if something terrible had not occurred. _

_The dirt was no longer dry. The gun was rising. _

_“Namona, Mama!” she screamed, as her mother’s body fell to the ground slowly. All time stopped._

_“Arcadia…”_

_“Turn away…”_

_“Turn away…”_

_“wapanahkosis…”_

“Arcadia!”

Arcadia cried out as she felt her body being pulled up. She blinked her eyes wide open, but all she could see was the gun. Her mother. The dust that collected in her blood.

“Arcadia! Wake up!” A voice called.

It was a strong voice, deep and thick with an accent she couldn’t place.

Arcadia blinked again, trying to breathe but finding she couldn’t. She tried to grasp at something, at anything, but she couldn’t feel anything with her hands.

Not until another set of hands grasped her and held hers between them tightly.

“Arcadia, it’s me, Jamie. Wake up!” Jamie called, grasping Arcadia’s hands in between his own.

Blinking again, she managed to pull in a breath, painfully filling her lungs. She blinked again, and Jamie’s face came into focus. Her chest heaved as she continued to breathe in. It was painful, it burned, and she could taste the dust on her tongue.

Her face was streaked with tears, her eyes watery and still fighting off sleep. She held onto Jamie’s hands hard, using them to ground herself into reality. She was sitting on the ground in her hut, against the wall near her hammock. Her legs were sore, and she vaguely registered that her knees were scraped and bloody, but no longer bleeding. She held onto his hands, resting her forehead on their joined hands.

Sobs wracked her body, and she shook in fear, in pain, in sadness.

It had been a very long time since she had last dreamt of her mother. A very long time.

Jamie remained silent as he watched Arcadia fight a battle that he couldn’t help her with, but continued to hold her hands to make sure she knew she wasn’t alone.

****

Arcadia assessed the boy’s leg, gently holding it in her hands, as he sniffled. She glanced up at him, and she pursed her lips.

“This looks serious,” she stated, as she twisted the leg this way and that.

There was small cut on his leg from him playing with the other children in the yard, and he had fallen down. With the amount of crying and fuss, Arcadia had assumed that he had broken a bone. But when she had arrived, the cut was bleeding a bit, but was nothing more than a flesh wound. One of the older boys offered to carry the younger boy to her hut to be tended too.

The injured boy was young, around the age of 5 or 6, and was still reliant on others to take care of him.

She turned her attention back to the boy, trying to keep a straight face as she told him her news.

“I think I will have to cut it off, with the amount of blood you lost,” she confirmed, letting go of his leg and leaning back on her heels.

The boy’s eyes widened in fear, and he began to shake his head.

“No mistress!” the boy squeaked.

Arcadia nodded her head, and gestured towards his leg. “I mean, all the crying and hollering, the wound must be fatal! Whatever will you do, with just one leg?”

The boy shook his head again, and quickly stood up.

“See, mistress? I can stand!” the boy cried, hopping up and down on the ground.

“I don’t know. I think you must be sick with fever!” Arcadia claimed, raising her hand to touch his forehead. A small twitch made her lips quiver, but she held on.

“No mistress!” The boy was frantic now. He quickly grabbed a bit of cloth from Arcadia’s table and wiped at the cut. He hissed a bit at the slight pain, but otherwise was very brave. He pressed the cloth a bit harder onto the cut, to make it stop bleeding, and then stood up straight again. “See? It all right now!” The boy stated, the plea obvious in his voice.

Arcadia eyed him critically, with one brow raised, as she looked at his leg again. He held it up to show how it was better. Arcadia looked for another quick moment, but then let shock register on her face.

“Oh my! You’ve healed it!” she cried out, feigning being utterly speechless. She clutched at her chest as she grasped his leg gently again.

She didn’t heal him, because she knew that the boy needed to learn how to deal with things like this on his own. But she could play along, to make him feel better, and come to the realization himself.

The boy smirked and brought his leg down. “Yes I did!”

She gazed at him with pride in her eyes, “Well done.” She smiled at him gently, and without another word, or without a proper bandage on the cut, the boy ran out of her hut, giggling and claiming that he had healed it himself to the other children.

She walked over to the doorway, and watched as the other children all ran around, laughing and shrieking as they tried to catch one another. The freedom to be children was something that she never got tired of. She looked on in envy and in happiness, the smiles, the laughter. Her chest hurt a bit as she continued to watch.

It had been a few days since her nightmare. Jamie had come by to see her couple of times each day, to make sure she was alright, as well as to bring items from the kitchens from Mrs. Fitz. Arcadia knew that he didn’t have to do those things, that Mrs. Fitz usually sent those items with children. Arcadia didn’t know how to feel about that exactly. She was thankful for his interaction, and his care, but she was also fairly unaccustomed to it, especially before and after Dannick. Part of her felt that if she were to care for Jamie in any way that it would slowly erase Dannick from her mind, just as training and war had erased her mother.

But now that she was away from war, away from the torments of her time, she was beginning to remember aspects of her life that she believed to be long forgotten. Glimpses of her mother’s hair, her eyes. Dannick’s laugh ringing in her eyes, his breath on her face when they sparred. Happier moments with her team, slowly becoming friends, and building trust.

“How are you today, Arcadia?”

Arcadia turned her head towards the voice, her attention snapping back to the present. Jamie stood near her door, watching her as she watched the children. They were still playing, running around having a wonderful time before dinner.

Arcadia leaned against the door frame, “Better.”

Jamie smiled gently, and raised a sack in his hand, “Dinner.”

Arcadia uncrossed her arms and grabbed the bag. She stepped into her hut and placed it onto the table near the fire place. The sounds of the children slowly retreated as they ran into the castle to clean up for dinner. Arcadia missed their sounds, but didn’t say anything of it. Instead, she opened the bag and pulled everything out.

It was when she was folding the bag that she noticed Jamie was still standing at her door.

“You staying, or leaving?” Arcadia asked, looking back down at the contents on the table.

Jamie coughed, “Erm, no. I have to get back to the stables before dark. I just wanted to tell you that the Gathering will begin tomorrow, so more kinsman of the Mackenzie clan will be arriving. Colum wanted to tell you, but you rarely go into the castle anymore…” Jamie trailed off.

He was right, Arcadia rarely went into the castle. She didn’t like the feeling of being inside it ever since she had settled into her hut. And tension was still fairly high with Colum and Dougal, who had been let back in on the grounds that he did not try to contact Arcadia. Which she had been fine with. The less she had to see of the man the better.

“So I should make myself scarce when they arrive?” she asked carefully, putting a slice of meat into her mouth with her fingers.

Jamie barked a laugh, “No. In fact, the opposite. Colum believes you will be needed for the hunt once everyone is here,” he explained.

Arcadia raised an eyebrow at him.

“Whenever there is a gathering, all the men go out and hunt, usually a boar. It’s dangerous, but the men get excited about it.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm?”

“Get excited about the hunt?”

Jamie shook his head a bit, “I don’t normally join. I… make myself scarce…” Jamie said slowly, glancing around him as if looking out for eavesdroppers.

Arcadia was curious as to why he was acting that way, but decided to let him tell her or not to.

“Alright. I’ll be ready for any healing that is needed. I’ll need more bandages and proper alcohol from Mrs. Fitz though.” Arcadia stated.

She had begun the process of distilling alcohol to use as sterilizer for wounds that didn’t need her healing. Arcadia had tried to use her gift less and less when it came to healing the people of the castle. She didn’t need word getting out that she was healing people magically with her hands. It was too dangerous. But her knowledge of basic healing as a doctor was more than enough for the time.

Jamie was nodding his head as Arcadia turned her attention back to him. They were silent for another few moments, clearly having discussed everything that needed to be said. Arcadia knew that Jamie had to leave, and Jamie knew that he should leave, but neither of them made any movement to do so.

Finally, Jamie looked at Arcadia in the eyes, his face serious. “Any more…?” he began.

Arcadia immediately knew to what he was referring, and while she was slightly pleased with his concern, she still wasn’t ready to talk about it. There were so many things that she couldn’t say, details that wouldn’t make sense to him. But she wanted to tell him. She wanted to talk about who she was, where and when she was from, to be able to release the secret that was holding her captive here in this time. But she couldn’t. It was a burden that only she could bare and she knew that. And oddly, she believed that Jamie understood that as well. He may not know the details of the truth, but he knew enough through her haunted, pained looks, that there were things in her past that she wasn’t ready to talk about.

She shook her head, “’No. At least, not that I can remember.”

Jamie sighed, and nodded slowly. “Good, good.” He paused, and then stepped closer to her. “Arcadia…” he started. It was like he was fighting what he wanted to say, but decided to speak anyway. “It was frightening, what happened to you. When I couldn’t wake ye up right away.” His voice was low and aching, as he remembered that morning.

Arcadia recalled what Jamie had told her, how he came to her hut in the morning, only to hear her screams. He had kicked down the door in his haste to get inside to protect her, but was bewildered to see her up against the far way, hitting it over and over, yelling at it, but miraculously asleep. He had grabbed her arm gently, to try and wake up, but it only caused her to react more fiercely and violently. She had hit him several times, and it wasn’t until he held her down that she managed to calm down. And he had yelled at her, calling her name over and over to try and get her to wake up. To say that he was terrified was an understatement, Arcadia knew.

Arcadia hung her head, “Sorry…” she whispered.

Jamie moved again to stand right in front of her, and gently pulled her hand with his. “You’ve nothing to be sorry about, Arcadia. It was a terrible dream that was frightening for both you and I.”

Arcadia stared at their joined hands. It was silent for a moment, and then Jamie spoke again.

“Who were you calling out to in that odd language?” Jamie asked quietly, gently, almost as if he didn’t want to ask it.

Arcadia tensed, her breath catching in her throat.

“Who were you so afraid for?” he asked, again still gentle.

Arcadia swallowed, her breath coming in more quickly as she began to feel anxious.

Jamie sighed, and squeezed her hand a bit more. “I know you do not want to talk about it. I understand. I just want you to know that you can speak to me. I willna tell a soul about it, if you no want me to.” Jamie assured, brushing his thumb over the back of her hand.

Breathing slightly more heavily, Arcadia looked up at Jamie. He was startling closer than she had thought. She could feel his breath on her face, could feel the heat of his body so close to hers. She gulped slightly, keeping as still as she could.

“I promised I willna hurt ye, Arcadia.”

She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the concern, and another thing that she couldn’t really place. She blinked, and then the moment for her was done. She turned her head away from him, because she couldn’t take his stare. She released her hand from his and took a small tentative step back.

Shaking her head, she whispered, “I can’t.”

She heard him sigh gently, but then he took a step back as well. “I understand, Arcadia. I did not mean to push you. I only want ye to know that I’m here.”

The warmth in his voice was so soothing, Arcadia almost wanted to reach out her hand again to take his. She shook the feeling away, closed her eyes, and crossed her arms in front of her chest instead. 

“Thank you.”

It was a few moment of silence when Arcadia looked up to see that Jamie had left without another word. And Arcadia couldn’t shake the growing ache in her chest at the realization.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wapanahkosis = snowbird
> 
> Nikawiy nimama = mother (my mother)
> 
> namona = no! 
> 
> These are very basic cree words that I am currently learning. (Citation: Kenneth Paupanekis "Pocket Cree: A Phrasebook fro Nearly All Occasions". 2009)


	14. The Woman of Balnain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gwyllyn the Bard comes to Castle Leoch, and Arcadia is invited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, 
> 
> Sorry for the delay, but this cold is really kicking my butt.   
Here is a short chapter for you! I hope you like it :) 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

Arcadia fidgeted uncomfortably in her doorway as she gazed out at the many men with horses and carts traipsing onto the grounds. When Jamie had said that the Mackenzie kinsman would be coming, she hadn’t realized just how many would be there. So many unknown faces, it put Arcadia on edge. Many of the men with their wives were welcomed into the castle, given rooms to lodge, while the other kinsman stayed outdoors in temporary tents. The scene reminded Arcadia of the temporary camps on the battlefield. The tents were more primitive and barely withstood nature’s climate, but Arcadia could see the many resemblances.

She didn’t see Jamie among the men, to which she assumed that he was still at the stables. He had said that during the Gathering he would make himself scarce, and it made Arcadia wonder. As she contemplated, she watched a young boy run towards her.

“The Mackenzie requests your presence in his chambers, Mistress Hark.” The boy was slightly out of breath, but he stood tall and proud while delivering his message.

Arcadia stared at the boy for a moment, and then nodded. She turned back inside and grabbed a shawl from the chair and draped it over her shoulders. Thankfully the boy had waited for her, and together they walked towards the main doors of the castle. As they walked, Arcadia could feel the eyes of many men on her back, but she didn’t look behind her. She walked briskly into the castle, following the boy up the stairs to Colum’s chambers.

Once they reached the landing, the boy scampered up to the door, knocked twice, and then scurried off again. She watched as he ran down the stairs, presumably to head straight for the kitchen. Arcadia sighed internally. She gently pulled on the door and peered inside.

“Mistress Hark, come in.” Colum called.

Arcadia moved smoothly through the door, and assumed her standard stance, feet planted shoulder width apart and hands behind her back. She didn’t speak as she watched Colum stand from his chair and wobble around the desk. She tilted her head just a bit as she assessed him, finding that his legs were still working fairly well since the first time she healed him. There was still limited movement, since it had been so far long in its degradation, but she was thankful that her healing had held up. She straightened again, and waited.

“As you know, the Gathering is beginning this evening. Many of my kinsman have come to swear their fealty to me as their laird,” Colum moved towards the fire as he spoke, “Gwyllyn the bard, he’ll be singing in the hall tonight before the Gathering begins. I’d like you to come along as my guest.” He turned towards Arcadia, addressing directly.

Arcadia stared at Colum for a moment, unsure of what to say. She had assumed that Colum would want her to stay in her hut for the whole time, only coming out to heal the injured from the hunt. She shifted slightly, uncomfortable with the idea of being in a hall full of unknown men. She hadn’t even liked being there with men she did know to some extent. Dougal had proven her fears about that correct, so she was hesitant to accept Colum’s invitation.

She lowered her head, “Is that an order?”

Colum breathed out a bit in surprise, “It’s more of a welcome invitation.” He narrowed his eyes a bit in curiosity and then spoke again, “Unless it makes it easier for it to be an order?”

Arcadia flicked her eyes up at him for a second, before briefly closing her eyes and nodded.

“Well then, it’s an order that you come to the hall tonight. Besides, there will not be enough hands to bring you food as usual.” Colum declared, turning his attention back towards his desk.

“I will also be needing your services as a healer when the hunt begins tomorrow morning.”

Arcadia nodded.

“You’ll be accompanying the men as they go. You can heal as the wounds come in,” Colum hesitated, “although, I believe it best if you do not use your…” he pointed to her hands vaguely, “in front of the men.”

Arcadia understood and completely agreed. “Unless absolutely necessary, I won’t be Stitching.”

Colum raised a brow at the terminology, but decided to let it go. “Right. That’ll be all then. Go down to see Mrs. Fitz about another dress. A proper one, if you please.” Colum said sternly.

Arcadia glanced down at her own dress. It was a bit dirty and didn’t have every piece that accompanied such a heavy garment. She pursed her lips a bit before sighing and nodding reluctantly. She was still not used to the idea of wearing such a garment, preferring to wear her pants and shirt underneath the main skirt and jacket.

So, instead of arguing, she brought her feet together and her hands down to her sides. She tilted her head towards Colum and then left the room.

****

The hall was filled with a lot of men and women, all of them drinking and talking, that it was overwhelming for Arcadia. She stood along the sidelines of the hall, trying her best to avoid any and all interactions with them. She was dressed in a brown dress, with a front part of white. It was fairly low cut, and Arcadia disliked the feeling of being so exposed. Each part of the dress that she had to put on, she did unwillingly, and she and Mrs. Fitz had had many arguments about them. She squirmed in her dress, her legs feeling too bare without her pants. A servant had tried to hand her a glass of liquid, but Arcadia refused, knowing exactly what was in it and how strong it was. If she was going to have stay in the hall with that many people, she needed to remain alert and vigilant.

A vigilant she was, as she heard sharp foot steps come up from behind her, and paused beside her. She tensed when she could feel their eyes on her, but she kept her face turned towards the crowd.

“Working yer way into Colum’s good graces, I see.” Dougal growled.

Arcadia still didn’t turn her head, or do anything to make it seem that she heard him. She waited a moment to see what else he wanted to say, or if he was going to make an unwise move against her.

“Seems that the feral cat we picked up on the road is trying to pull in her claws.” He took a long sip from his cup.

Arcadia breathed out through her nose, and finally turned towards Dougal. He was looking at her with hatred in his eyes, his mouth a firm scowl, and Arcadia simply looked him in the eye and smirked just the tiniest bit. There was no humor in her eyes or anywhere else on her face, so the look was terrifying, a veiled threat if there ever was one. Dougal swallowed thickly, but before he could say anything more, Arcadia straightened up and moved down the wall towards the back of the hall. The frown made its way back onto Arcadia’s face as the crowd of people grew noisier with drink.

“Mistress Hark!”

Arcadia turned to see Jamie walking over to her, skirting his way around the walls as well to come stand next to her.

“Jamie.”

“How is your evening?” Jamie asked, seeming a bit excited for the festivities to begin. His face was flushed, as if he ran a bit before coming into the hall.

“Fine.”

Jamie’s brow knitted in confusion for a second, “Is everything alright?”

Arcadia nodded once. She placed her hands behind her back in a relaxed stance as she surveyed the crowd for the umpteenth time.

“Alright…” Jamie said quietly, almost as if Arcadia wasn’t supposed to hear it.

Arcadia suddenly felt the need to speak to Jamie. She didn’t like the awkwardness between them, and it was grating on her nerves. She never felt like this before, so it was almost unbearable to deal with it now.

She spoke up suddenly, “What’s a bard?”

Jamie seemed surprised and confused at her question, but he indulged her either way, “He sings songs and plays instruments for entertainment. Gwyllyn is quite good, and Mackenzie has him perform every fortnight or so.” Jamie explained, pointing towards a dressed up man who was walking onto the stage. “Did you want to sit down to listen?”

Arcadia looked at Jamie at that, and then gazed back out into the crowd. Just the thought of being in the throng made her skin crawl, so she shook her head no. Jamie nodded in understanding, and assumed a similar pose to Arcadia.

“You can go if you wish. I’m not holding you back.” Arcadia stated, tilting her head towards the audience.

“Nah, it’s alright. I must leave early anyway. Before many of the men see me.”

“Why?”

Jamie opened his mouth hesitantly, but before he could reply, there was a hush around the hall, and the attention was drawn to the front. String was plucked and the sound resounded around the hall, hitting Arcadia’ ears with a melodic touch. As the song continued, the man playing the stringed instrument began to sing. It was in Gaelic, so Arcadia could understand, but she remained silent as she watched in awe of the man on stage. There had never really been people like that in her barracks, or any other on the compound. Music was a luxury that either the uber rich could afford, or the poor dealt with to stave off starvation or despair.

Arcadia had never been the type to indulge in music, but as the song progressed, she felt her chest tighten painfully. In the back of her mind, a familiar, yet alien sound bounced around her brain, mixing in with the song in the hall. She sucked in a breath as she heard her mother’s voice join in with the bard, although they were singing completely different songs.

“Arcadia?” Jamie whispered. He was standing very close to her, his hand gently touching her arm.

She blinked and was brought back to reality. She couldn’t remember the song, or what her mother’s voice sounded like, at least, not now. She was confused for the moment, but quickly hid her discomfort.

“What is he saying?” she asked instead.

Jamie gave her a look that seemed to Arcadia that he wasn’t pleased with her answer, but shook it off and turned his gaze towards the bard on stage.

“This one is about a man out late, on a fairy hill, on the eve of Samhain, who hears the sound of a woman singing, sad and plaintive, from the very rocks on the hill.”

He paused to listen a bit more, and Arcadia reflected bit. She vaguely remembered some stones in the field where she first appeared, but she had been so distracted by her new surroundings, that she hadn’t taken a proper look. She had seen stone in her life, but never trees or grass. She listened to Jamie carefully as he leaned in a bit to speak again.

“_I am a woman of the Balnain. The folk have stolen me over again; the stones seem to say. I stood upon the hill, and wind did rise, and the sound of thunder rolled across the land.” _

As Arcadia listened, flashes of the moments before she was attacked by the Elemental flooded her memory. The roaring thunder of cannons and guns had been slowly increasing with each passing moment that Cane and Arcadia had been in no-man’s land, searching in vain for their targets. It hadn’t been exactly windy that day, but the Elementals that attacked them carried enough wind power with them to subdue Arcadia and Cane at once.

_“I placed my hand upon the tallest stone, and in a blast of bright blue, traveled to a far, distant land, where I lived for time among strangers, who become lovers and friends.” _

Arcadia’s heart quickened. The flash of blue light had been what happened to her, before she was sent back in time. The new Elemental had pushed her down and through time.

_“But one day, I saw the moon came out, and the wind rose once more. So I touched the stones, and traveled back to my own land.” _

Arcadia didn’t know how to react to this information. While it sounded a lot like what she had experienced, she didn’t know how such a thing could be possible. She had never heard of time travel like that before, and there were no Evolved beings until after the third world war had started.

_“And took up again with the man I had left behind.”_

Arcadia breathed in deeply, trying to calm her nerves, but something was bugging her about it.

“Where are these stones, supposedly?” Arcadia asked quietly.

Jamie paused for a moment and thought about it. “It’s just a story, but legend has it that the stones at Craigh na Dun,” he paused a bit again, and looked at Arcadia with a curious expression. “It was actually near where we found you.”

Arcadia stared at Jamie with wide eyes. She could only begin to think of the possibilities. The woman in the story had managed to go back to her land, her time supposedly. And Arcadia couldn’t help but wonder, what if such a thing were possible for her as well?

She needed to find those stones again, and possibly, find a way back to her own time.


	15. The Stars At Night Are Bright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia goes with the troupe of men to collect the rent from the tenants of the Mackenzies.   
They stop for the night, and Arcadia watches the stars for a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Here is my next chapter. It wasn't were I was thinking of going with it, but it ended up being better than what I had originally planned, and I like it so much more! Also, it sets up a few more things for me, so yay!
> 
> Feedback and comments are always appreciated!! 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

Her actions during the Hunt had done two things. One, she had gained the respect of most the Mackenzie clan for how she handled the death of one of the men. Two, she had also gained the attention of Dougal, which Arcadia deemed had not been a good thing. Such feelings were correct, when she was told by Colum that she would be accompanying the group Dougal was leading to go collect the rent. Now that many of the Mackenzies knew about her, word had gotten around that she was a fantastic healer, and it had been an excellent opportunity for Colum, and Dougal, to use that to their advantage.

So now, Arcadia was on her own horse, riding along with a troupe of men not so different from the one that had initially found her, on their way to collect rent from tenants on Mackenzie lands. Jamie was among them, riding close to her on his dark horse. Arcadia found riding very uncomfortable, despite the fact that she now had the proper amount of room to maneuver.

“How are you doing, lass?” Jamie asked for the third time that day.

Arcadia turned her head towards him and shrugged.

Jamie huffed out a laugh, and Arcadia couldn’t help but linger in his smiling face. “You don’t grumble too much, do you?”

Arcadia shook her head slowly, turning her head again towards the front. “Not when it’s an order.”

Jamie paused, and regarded her curiously. “You know; you still haven’t spoken about where you’re from.” Jamie suggested quietly, so as not to be overheard by the rest of the men.

Arcadia glared at him for a second. “There’s nothing to tell. I’m here.”

Jamie hummed a bit, but dropped the topic for the time being.

Arcadia found it annoying that Jamie kept trying to figure out more about her. She didn’t need the man to know anything about her, truly, other than what she had already given. If she planned on getting to the area where she arrived, and hopefully make contact with her time, she didn’t think it would be useful to get to know many people here. Thinking about it however, made Arcadia’s mind drift to the people she had already become close-ish with. The children at the castle were lovely, she enjoyed watching them play and have fun, but also seeing them learn about responsibility and discipline. It was something that Arcadia never had the chance to experience, and she knew that that would probably be the thing she would miss the most.

***

Later that evening, they had stopped to set up camp. They were due to arrive at the next village tomorrow morning, and Jamie assured Arcadia that she would be able to sleep in a proper room once they got there.

“I don’t need a room. Tent and bundle is fine for me.” Arcadia reiterated.

Jamie shook his head, “No, lass. At Leoch, it’s fine that you stay in the hut, but out here, with other men and some not so friendly, it be best if you remained inside.”

Arcadia raised an eyebrow at him, but merely took what he said into consideration and decided not to argue any further. She leaned back against a tree that she had chosen to sleep under, and she watched the men converse over their fire a few paces away. Jamie had his back turned slightly towards her, but he was in deep conversation with Dougal about something that Arcadia had no interest in. One thing that she did find both unsettling and calming at the same time, was how comfortable she was among the men there. Yes, they were still a bit weary of her, but for the most part, they enjoyed her company. It was a similar feeling to the comfort she experienced with her team.

Shaking herself of the thought quickly, she looked up through the tree branches and was able to see the sky. It was crystal clear, and there were millions, hundreds of millions of stars. She noted that many of the constellations were slightly different, some being in places she had never seen before. In her time, she rarely got the chance to see the stars so openly from the ground. On occasion, the fly crafts would fly high enough above the thick smog clouds to just see a glimpse of the night sky, to see the stars.

The sight of them almost made Arcadia weep. It was amazing to be able to see them; a privilege. Part of her wished Dannick were alive and with her to see them too.

After a while, the voices began to die down, and Arcadia could hear their heartbeats beginning to calm down. Many of the men were asleep fairly quickly, and Arcadia took the opportunity to get up and walk around her tree. She walked a little way from the group, and found herself in a bit of clearing, where she could see the sky more fully. She watched the sky for a long while. She felt tears prickling her eyes, and she quickly rubbed them away.

She huffed in frustration as the tears continued. Arcadia didn’t understand why she was crying, but each time she looked at the sky, unburdened of smog, of black ash, of the horrible red that made it look like the sky itself was on fire. It was beautiful here, amazing.

Which is why she couldn’t decide if she truly wanted to go back. To be found again.

She was in a world that didn’t have the same pain she had experienced. It was green, lush, beautiful, and cherished. Her world was torn apart, fighting for the last vestiges of water and power with no care towards the people suffering for it. Yes, the people here did have their own problems and fights, but Arcadia couldn’t help but imagine her life here. How simple it would be in comparison.

It was in that moment that Arcadia realized that the last time she had felt like this was when she was living with her mother, so many years ago.

She gasped at the realization, and the tears flowed more freely now. The simplicity of her life with her mother had been wonderful, but also full of fear. Constantly worried that one day, they would finally come to take her away. Arcadia glanced down at her hands, her vision cloudy from both the dark and her tears. She cursed them, cursed the ability that she was born with because it ultimately took her away from her mother. She didn’t have anything of her mother’s anymore. The book she once had was now back in her barracks on the mainland, unreachable. Impossibly far. She gritted her teeth at the thought and cried out as she punched the ground. She needed more release, so she punched the ground again. It gave a dull thud each time, muffled by the thick grass. Standing up, she kicked at the ground, suddenly hating it with her entire being.

“Why.” She said aloud, although it was hardly anything more than a whisper.

“Why the fuck am I here?” she asked again, louder.

She kicked at the ground again, stirring up chucks of grass finally, but it did little to satiate Arcadia’s anger. Huffing out in anger, she walked farther away from the clearing, away from the group so as to not disturb them. She could feel a rage coming on, and there was no stopping her once she was fully into it. She continued to kick at the ground, stomping and crying out in frustration.

A tree loomed over as she walked closer, and she swung at it with all her might. She felt a crack run all the way up her arm, and she yelled out both in pain and relief. The pain from her hand distracted her from the pain in her chest, in her head, in her heart.

“Why!” she cried again, “Why did you have to take her from me!” She called out into the darkness. She could see flashes of that day, just like her dream.

Her mother saying, she loved her.

The man with the gun.

The barracks.

Dannick.

She punched out again, this time, splitting open her knuckle. She hissed at the pain.

The beatings.

Punch.

The rapes.

Punch.

Dannick’s face.

Punch.

Arcadia punched the tree over and over, trying to numb the pain but it wasn’t working anymore. This world was too quiet, too much and yet too little at the same time. Her breaths were coming in fast and sharp, causing her lungs to sting at the slight chill in the air. She could feel the sweat on her brow from exerting herself, but she couldn’t find it in herself to stop.

_Stop_, a voice said in her head.

She paused for a second, before shaking it hard and kicked at the tree instead.

_Stop_, the voice said again.

It was like a caress on her mind, so soft and loving that she paused again, waiting for it to say something more.

_Please_, the voice called, it sounded distant and echo-y, as it was far away or in a cave.

Tears streamed down Arcadia’s face as the voice soothed her.

_Arcadia_, the voice said again, still quiet, still far away, but she latched onto it with all she could.

Arcadia slumped down hard on the ground, the pain from her limbs finally getting to her. They throbbed in the worst way, and she winced as she could tell that she had broken several bones, and fractured a few more.

_Arcadia_, the voice spoke again, close this time, it sent shivers down her spine.

_Wapanahkosis_, it said.

Arcadia snapped her eyes open. She had heard that voice before, but it had been so long that she had forgotten just how soft it was, how beautiful it was.

“Mama?” she whispered into dark.

_Wapanahkosis_, it said again.

Arcadia gulped as she shivered again. Her mother’s voice filled her ears, her mind, and she quickly shut her eyes again.

“You’re not real. Not here,” Arcadia whispered, trying to dash away the hope before it took hold of her heart.

_Hold on, my wapanahkosis, _she whispered, her voice tickling Arcadia’s ear as if she was only a few inches away.

Arcadia gasped and opened her eyes to look around. There was nothing except dark and moonlight. Her tears renewed and fell down her face. Her mother was gone, but how could she hear her? Arcadia blinked away the tears as best as she could and moved to lay down.

She listened to the voice, stopping herself from doing anymore damage. Taking in deep breaths, she calmed herself down, replaying her mother’s voice in her head like a mantra. She needed it. She had missed it so much in her life that she hadn’t realized that it hurt to hear it again.

As she lay there in the dark, the quiet air took over. She listened to the wind that was gently pushing through the trees, the sound of insects milling about in the grass. She could see the stars again, and she found them peaceful once again. A sob escaped her lips as she willed her mother to speak again. She needed to hear it once more before she could let go.

_Sing with me, wapanahkosis, _her mother urged gently.

Arcadia felt a caress on her face, and she didn’t know if it was the wind, or her mother’s hand. Fresh tears fell, but she could feel her mother’s drum in her chest. Arcadia remembered that it had been old and battered, but her mother had taken care of it with all the love she could muster. She vaguely remembered how her mother would tell her stories about their culture, their people. How so very long ago they thrived and were peaceful, despite the many set backs and hardships they faced. The beat was getting strong in her mind, in her chest, that she lifted her chin a bit to ease the pain.

It was a fast beat, racing like a heartbeat after running a short distant quickly. Despite how fast it was, it calmed Arcadia, slowing her heart down.

_Sing with me, wapanahkosis, _her mother urged again.

Her voice was quiet at first, barely a whisper over the wind. It hurt to sing, since she hardly used it since the last time she had seen her mother. Her lips had somehow remembered the words of the song that her mother was encouraging her to sing. It wrapped around her as she continued, feeling more confident, and more relaxed in the moment. She felt it caress her skin, her soul, and she felt lighter. Her eyes were closed, and she didn’t feel pain anymore. She sang and sang, her mother keeping the beat of the drum strong in her mind.

Her mother sang with her, her voice wrapping around hers like a hug. It was beautiful and sad, but wonderful. Arcadia felt light, happy, bitterly so, but enough to keep going.

_That’s it, wapanahkosis, _her mother whispered, _keep going_…

So Arcadia did. She kept singing her song, over and over, listening to her mother sing with her as the words flowed over her body and filled her with light. She kept singing until she drifted off to sleep, her mother still singing in her mind gently and fading.

****

Arcadia woke with a gasp. She looked straight up at the sky, still in the same place as she had been earlier that night. It was still fairly dark, but Arcadia could tell that the dawn wasn’t too far off. She quickly sat up, only to remember that she had broken her hand last night. But when she pulled up her hand to inspect it, it was fine. She looked at it in confusion as she moved it around freely. The wrist bones weren’t broken anymore, and her knuckles were healed with no scars. Arcadia was dumbstruck. How had that happened?

She thought back to what had happened, but she couldn’t rationalize the idea that her mother’s spirit had come to her at her worst moment, despite never having come to her before, and healed her with an old song that she hadn’t thought she remembered, from her childhood. It wasn’t possible. Spirits weren’t real, no matter how hard people wished them to be. She had learned that soon after being taken away from her mother. So why did it happen now?

Arcadia shook her head in denial, couldn’t believe that it had happened, but the lack of pain in her chest, and the lack of woozy dizziness from healing herself made her think otherwise.

Had her mother truly come to her, from the future, or was it from beyond the grave, in a spirit world form? Arcadia couldn’t tell what was fact from fiction, what was wishful thinking and actuality. She glanced at the tree she had punched over and over, and saw that it was broken in places, pieces of bark had been ripped off, and splashes of blood covered it. She could tell that it was her blood, her finger nails that had broken off and gotten stuck in the bark from her clawing at it to inflict more pain. Her stared wide eyed at it for a moment.

But before she could think about it anymore, there was a snap of a twig behind her, and she whirled around to see her attacker, her instincts kicking in automatically.

“Hark!” Jamie said, arms raised as he saw her in her defensive mode, “It’s just me.”

Arcadia relaxed at the sight of Jamie, and she sighed.

“What are you doing all the way out here? I woke and saw that you were not in your tent.” Jamie explained, as he approached Arcadia slowly.

She didn’t reply right away, she just looked at him for a moment. In this light, his face was lit up by fading moonlight, and it was striking to see his eyes glow. His face was inviting and warm, and Arcadia couldn’t help but feel a similar calm as she had earlier that evening.

Jamie raised an eyebrow at her, tilting his head, “Arcadia, are you all right?” he asked gently.

Arcadia shook her head, “No I’m not.” She searched his eyes, “but I don’t know if I can fix it.” Her voice cracked at the admission.

Jamie’s eyes widened as well, but he quickly got control over his face, and reached out a hand towards her. Arcadia reached for it in return, not taking her eyes off of him.

“Do you believe in spirits, Jamie?” Arcadia asked hesitantly.

Jamie looked to the side for a second, but then reconnected with Arcadia’s. “Depends on the kind,” he admitted.

Arcadia looked down his face, following the curve of his jaw, down his neck where it disappeared under his clothes. He was wearing a thick wool jacket, his belt that held his sword slung across his chest. She continued her journey down, catching a glimpse at his belt where his dirk was nestled, and further down to where his kilt came down to his knees. The bottom of his legs were mostly bare, save where the tops of his boots covered his ankles and feet.

“It’s so simple,” Arcadia whispered, gesturing vaguely at Jamie’s entire body. “Everything here is simple, and old.” She could feel her mind beginning to drift from exhaustion, despite the fact that she had slept for at least a few hours.

“I don’t know if I want to go back…” Arcadia breathed.

Jamie listened hard to what Arcadia was saying, but her words were so breathy and quiet that he almost missed it.

“Arcadia,” he began, not really knowing what would set her mind at ease in his moment. He didn’t fully understand what she meant by her words, but he had a feeling that she needed some sort of reassurance.

“You don’t have to. You can stay here,” Jamie paused, afraid of his own words, “with me.”

Arcadia looked back up then, staring into Jamie’s eyes with tears in her own. Jamie watched her with great concern as the tears fell swiftly down her face.

“What if I have to?” she asked, the desperation in her voice was almost heartbreaking.

Jamie clenched her hand tightly, bringing it up to rest on his chest. “You have a choice in where you go. You can stay, or go, but either way, you can make that choice.”

Arcadia looked down at their joined hands with wide eyes. She didn’t understand the feelings that were welling up inside her, but she could faintly hear her mother’s voice in her head, telling her that it was okay. That she was safe. That she could breathe.

Arcadia pulled in a shaky breath, and stepped closer to Jamie. Their hands were still intertwined, but Arcadia didn’t want to pull them apart. Instead she just held it tightly in return, before she moved her other arm to wrap around his waist. She rested her head on his chest beside their hands and closed her eyes. Slowly, she felt Jamie’s other arm wrap around her as well, gently hugging her against him.

They stayed like that for a while, just breathing and holding each other as Arcadia allowed her mind to calm down and be silent. She felt warm in his arms, and she suddenly understood what she was feeling before. She had been craving touch, contact, similar to the type that her mother had given her when she was little. For so long, she had been deprived of that touch, the sentiment, the care, that when presented with it again, Arcadia didn’t know what to do with it. But now, she felt better, she felt more at peace with the idea of Jamie hugging her, his strong arms holding her against his broad chest. She could feel his heartbeat behind her ear, and it was strong and steady.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those who would like to know what song she is singing, I will provide a link to a youtube video below. For me, it suited the moment perfectly, because it is a healing song, something that Arcadia desperately needed in this moment. 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hAZ8GBkSLLQ


	16. A Question of Reputation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still on the road to collect the rent. Arcadia gives some advice, learns about the Jacobite uprising, and wakes up from a nightmare that threatens to consume her. 
> 
> Until something stops it from doing so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry that this has taken so long! I promise, I will try to do better about uploading each week. :( 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It's fairly long, so I hope it can make up for my lack of discipline! 
> 
> As always, comments and feedback are appreciated!! And thank you all for the kudos!! 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

“She is not a spy!” Jamie growled, as he watched Dougal pace in the hut at their most recent stops. “She doesna even sound English!”

“You canna know that, Jamie! How many times has she gone off by herself now, hm? She is dangerous, and she knows it, and so does everyone else, aside from you apparently.” Dougal hissed back, spittle flying from his mouth as he did.

“Aye, she is dangerous. Your men learned that the hard way. But she is no spy.” Jamie was shaking with anger.

The men were speaking in private, away from the other men and Arcadia, with Dougal having confronted Jamie about their whereabouts the previous evening. He clearly did not have a single ounce of trust towards Arcadia, and Jamie knew that, which is why it made him so nervous for her to be with them on the trip for the rent.

“If you got yer head out of yer arse for a moment, and actually looked at her, you’d see what I see. A witch of a woman, who is casting a spell on everyone!”

Jamie clenched his fist in rage, “She saved Angus’ life! She healed and tended to many of the Mackenzie clan. She has proved herself!” 

“Not to me, not yet.” Dougal spoke low, the anger seething and rolling off his shoulders.

Jamie scrunched his face with suspicion, “What do you intend to do in order for that to happen?” he asked slowly, almost afraid of the answer.

But Dougal remained silent. The only hint of something nefarious glinted in his eye, before he huffed and stalked away. Jamie sighed roughly, unable to contain his anger and punch the wall of the hut. He split his knuckle from the force and grimaced at the pain. But he shook it off in favour of following Dougal outside, to where the men and Arcadia were waiting for their orders.

They were setting out that afternoon, needing to get on the road as quickly as possible to get to the next village by next mid-day. Jamie stalked over to his horse, the reins of which were handed to him by Arcadia. Without a word, she raised an eyebrow at him, but he averted his gaze. He did not want her to see his anger. He didn’t need her to take care of him again. He mounted his horse soon after the others did, and followed the troupe out of the small village.

****

The next morning, the men were in a raucous sort of mood. Arcadia woke to the sounds of men yelling, cheering, and laughing hysterically. She crawled out of her tent to see what the fuss was about, and she gave a small smile. The men were wrestling, having a good time before the day began. Arcadia tugged on her thicker coat, and walked over a bit to get a better view. Jamie was among them, and in better spirits than the previous day. He had avoided her the rest of yesterday, and the evening, save for getting her food from the fire. She didn’t push, however. She knew when someone wanted to talk and when they didn’t, and most of the time she didn’t want to listen anyway.

One of the men threw down the youngest, hard, into the ground. A cheer rang up and the young man groaned in pain. She instantly assessed him from her viewpoint, but didn’t see anything seriously wrong with him, although he would have a wicked bruise on his side. The men egged him on to get up and keep going, but each time the larger, more experienced men threw him down. Arcadia didn’t flinch at each impact, she was too used to the reality of violence, even just play fighting. She watched with bemused interest. The young man was clearly getting angry, and decided to walk away, much to the amusement of the men.

He stalked over to his tent, which wasn’t too far away from where Arcadia was standing, and she gave him another assessment. She noticed that he was in actual pain, and one of his ribs had been cracked. Slowly making her way over, she cleared her throat.

“William, right?” she asked.

The young man looked up at her, his face in a grimace of pain, but he quickly tried to hide it. “Aye, mistress.”

Arcadia nodded, “Would you like some help with that? He almost broke your rib with that last drop. It will heal on its own in time, but it will be worse on horseback.” She gestured vaguely to his side.

William looked down, and winced slightly in pain. Slowly, he nodded, and she could see that tears were springing in his eyes. Arcadia moved towards him, hands outstretched a bit, and she made quick work of his vest. The cloth shirt he was wearing was thin enough that she could feel for his ribs without much trouble, and pinpoint the Stitching.

“This will hurt for 5 seconds, and then it will feel better, okay?” Arcadia explained before placing her hands on his side.

He nodded again, and she began Stitching. She had been right about the fracture, and she knew that if he tried to ride a horse, it would have broken for sure.

As she started, she glanced back at the men, who were no longer paying attention to William, or herself.

“When fighting larger men like that, aim low. Their centre of gravity is fairly large, but take out their legs, their vulnerable,” Arcadia murmured. She kept her face focussed on healing, drawing out the need of contact in order to give the boy some advice.

“Shoulder to hip, grab behind the leg and stand up, while moving forward.” She continued, glancing up at his face for a second.

He had a surprised expression on his face as he listened, in shock and awe.

Arcadia let go of his side, and moved to his hand. It was a bit tender, but she didn’t need to heal him. Rather, she grasped it firmly in her own, and carefully and slowly started to twist it.

“Once they are down, quickly grab their wrist, pull it straight, and twist it like this, sharply. Don’t let go until you hear either them scream in pain, or a loud pop.”

William’s eyes widened as he glanced between his hand and Arcadia.

“When playing, don’t go that far, obviously. But it could save your life one day.”

William didn’t speak, but he sighed gratefully since he was no longer in pain. She released his hand and stood back.

“But don’t use those tricks just yet. Don’t want you to get beat for learning anything from me,” Arcadia explained, before walking away.

But as she walked back to her tent to start taking it down, she smiled to herself. At least next time, maybe William will be able to knock the other men down a peg or two.

*****

Their journey had continued for several days, turning into weeks of travel. Arcadia was tired, but pleased with the pace. She hated being idle, and the more they were on the move, the better it was. Their most recent stop had brought them to a fairly large village, one that had an inn for Arcadia to stay in, much to her own protests. The men had collected the rent over the course of the day, and Dougal had invited many of the men to join them for supper and drinking in the evening. Arcadia was still fascinated by the process of collecting the rent, although she didn’t entirely agree with it. She knew what it was like to go without, and seeing so many people having difficultly to pay their rent was hard. In the place they stopped, Arcadia quietly offered her services as a healer, tending to children and babies mostly. Not many of the men would allow her to touch them, and many of the women were weary as well. But when it came to the well being of their children, few refused.

Jamie had told Arcadia to join them for the drinking afterward, although she knew it was for the purpose of keeping an eye on her, rather than being out of trust or actual kindness.

As many of the men were drinking and laughing, Dougal stood up and began speaking. The tone of the room shifted greatly, and the room began to simmer down. Arcadia listened to Dougal’s words and she was surprised at what he was saying. He was alluding to an uprising among the Highlands. The English were trying to take over Scottish territory by force and fear, and Dougal was trying to rile people up to rise against the enemy. Arcadia raised an eyebrow at him, at the situation, and she couldn’t help but be impressed. In her time, not many people fought against the government, and those who did, like her mother, were either imprisoned or killed. But Arcadia understood what Dougal was trying to achieve. Uprisings don’t happen with nothing. Money was needed, and this was how he was doing it. In secret, speaking to the men of each village, and encouraging their hatred of the English to raise the funds necessary.

However, the first time, Arcadia was completely unprepared for what Dougal did next.

He growled angrily in Gaelic, although her translator told his meaning just fine. He stalked over to Jamie, and ripped open his shirt from the back, revealing his scars to everyone in the room. There were a few collective gasps and murmurs, but Arcadia could tell that Jamie was livid. Dougal was obviously a man who liked a bit of dramatic flair. Every time they stopped and spoke with the village people about the enemy, Dougal would rip Jamie’s shirt to reveal what they had done to him.

And each time, Jamie would sew it back together, frustratingly and furious.

This time however, Arcadia followed Jamie after all the village men had dispersed.

“Why do you let him do that?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest. Her skirts were catching on the ground, and she kicked at them impatiently.

Jamie growled, “Let the man have his way. It’s better than the alternative.”

Arcadia pursed her lips slightly, and tilted her head towards him, “Or… you could just do it yourself, save you from having to fix it every time.”

Jamie huffed a laugh that held no mirth, “And where’s the fun in that, lass?” he turned to look at her, chest still bare.

Arcadia shrugged and averted her gaze. She didn’t need to ogle him when he was angry. Even though seeing him angry, having his chest heave with each breath in order to calm himself down was a sight that Arcadia could not get out of her head. She pinched her eyes closed for a second, before turning away again, facing the fire that was blazing in the large room, keeping it warm.

“So, Dougal’s stealing money from Colum.” Arcadia murmured quietly, turning her head just slightly back towards Jamie, but making it look like she wasn’t really talking to him.

She heard Jamie go still for a moment, before she heard footsteps coming towards her. He came to stand very close to her, but he was now wearing his spare shirt.

“And what makes you say that?” Jamie eyes cautiously.

Arcadia met his gaze with derision, “I’m not an idiot. I’m learning, being here so long. I know Sassenach means English, and I know a money grab when I see one. Especially when Dougal does it.” Arcadia explained.

Jamie’s eyes widened a bit as he leaned back. He looked around to make sure no one else was listening and he grabbed Arcadia’s elbow and led her outside.

Once they were far enough away, Jamie turned to her, “You canna tell Colum, or let Dougal know that you understand Gaelic!” Jamie whispered fiercely.

Arcadia rolled her eyes, “Again, not stupid, Jamie.”

Jamie pursed his lips in frustration at Arcadia, but she didn’t care.

“And no need to worry. I’ve seen this before, and I’m not going to intervene in places where I shouldn’t.” She paused and looked away. _I didn’t even mean to intervene here, but what the fuck can I do about that? _she thought to herself.

Arcadia felt Jamie staring at her, clearly trying to understand her meaning, but as always, she never gave enough information to make complete sense.

“Right, well. Just be careful, Arcadia. We can’t have you causing Dougal to mistrust you any more than he already does.”

Arcadia turned back to him at that, and furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”

Jamie grimaced and sighed, resting his hands on his hips. “Dougal doesna trust you. He’s calling you a witch because you didn’t leave when he wanted you to.”

Arcadia didn’t let on that Jamie’s words affected her. She kept her face the same, her breathing the same, as she processed his words. Being called a witch would be very dangerous in times like this, where superstition ran rampant. She clenched her jaw tightly and swallowed, the only sign that she had considered Jamie’s words.

“Fine. I don’t trust the fucker either.” Arcadia said bitterly. She was getting real tired of people looking at her with distrust, like she was an alien.

Of course, that was basically what she was, no matter how she tried to look at it.

Jamie narrowed his eyes in shock and confusion at the curse word, huffing out a laugh at her bluntness.

“Aye, well. Try to stay out of his way, and maybe he will learn to trust you. But for now, I’ll take you back to the inn, and you can get some rest.” Jamie stated, moving his hand towards the road they were on, into the village.

Arcadia looked at Jamie for a moment, before moving along and waiting for Jamie to fall into step with her. She thought about what Jamie had said, and a thought occurred to her. Despite everything they had shared, she had never truly asked him,

“Do you trust me, Jamie?” she asked timidly, as the walked quietly.

Jamie sighed loudly, and brought his hands to rest on his belt in front of him. “Aye, I do, Hark. I don’t know if I should, since I’m the only one who does.” Jamie answered truthfully. “But yes, I do.” He said firmly, turning his head to face her as he did.

Arcadia met his gaze and nodded. That was something at least.

After a moment, nearing the inn, Arcadia turned to Jamie once more.

“So, William knocked down Rupert yesterday,” she said nonchalantly. She kept her face plain and free of any emotional context, although she was laughing inside.

Jamie actually laughed, a huge smile on his face, “Aye, that he did! Surprised everyone of us! The boy’s learning, that’s for sure.” He still kept the smile on his face, and Arcadia couldn’t help but match it.

“Good,” she said simply, continuing to walk.

“You wouldn’t have anything to do with that, Arcadia?” Jamie asked suspiciously as he matched her pace.

Arcadia shook her head, “No. I suppose William is just a quick study.” She averted her gaze just a bit, being a bit more obvious with Jamie about her involvement.

Jamie regarded Arcadia with a coy smile, and he huffed a laugh. “Aye, indeed he is.”

Arcadia could tell that Jamie knew she had a hand in William’s improved fighting skills, but neither of them said it out loud. After all, the credit did belong to William. He had used Arcadia’s trick to get Rupert on his back, groaning and moaning in pain, while crying about his “broken” wrist. Arcadia had to mend the bruise completely just to get him to shut up, at Dougal’s surprising request. It had been a funny moment, one that Arcadia got the chance to enjoy, before Dougal cut her off again and they had begun the rent collection.

Both Jamie and Arcadia entered the inn, and were directed to the room in which Arcadia would be staying. Her things had already been brought up, just her pack and bedding roll. Once she was mostly settled in the room, she turned around to find Jamie hovering at the door.

“I’ll be set outside your door this evening, Hark. The taproom’s full of townsmen half-gone with drink I am worried some of them might venture up here...” Jamie said, clearing his throat a bit harshly, as if he was embarrassed about the idea.

Arcadia took stock of Jamie’s body at that moment, his heart rate had gone up a bit, and his skin was heated. She smirked a bit and looked away, having mercy on Jamie’s embarrassment.

“Thanks, but you don’t need to. I’d most likely kill anyone who would try something like that.” she stated simply.

“Aye, that’s what I’m afraid of! Don’t need you going all Hark on the poor soul who mistook your room for a -,” Jamie cut off and flushed a deep crimson.

“A whore’s?” Arcadia raised her brow, but there was a smirk on her lips.

Jamie flushed again, and looked down at his feet for a moment. It was then that Arcadia saw just how young he was. She wasn’t much older, but the youth the he held onto was awe-inspiring. Yes, he had obviously had his fun as a teen, but apart from that? He was still fairly young, and was dealing with conspiracy for war, political turmoil, and the need to survive each day. Arcadia realized that he wasn’t that much different than she was, differing only in the time and circumstance of their births. She regarded him critically for a moment, and Jamie shifted uncomfortably for a moment under her scrutiny.

“You shouldn’t sleep out there, though. At least come into the room.” Arcadia offered quietly. “It’s warmer.”

Jamie looked up at her in shock, as if she was proposing something entirely different.

“I canna do that. your reputation would be ruined!” Jaime said, aghast.

“My reputation? Seriously? For the past few weeks, I’ve slept under the stars with you and the other men.”

“That isn’t the same thing at all…” Jamie said gravely, looking down.

“Why, because if I got you alone, I would have my wicked ways with you? Enchant you into doing something unseemly?” Arcadia teased, although she knew there was some grain of truth behind her words. Who knows what Dougal would conjure up in falsehoods and lies.

Jamie’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide in shock. “No…, I mean… Mistress Hark -”

“Hark or Arcadia, not Mistress,” Arcadia spoke firmly. She hated it when people called her that, especially Jamie. He hadn’t done so since they had that moment when she almost broke her hand back at Leoch.

Jamie stared at her with hard eyes. “Hark. I canna do what you ask.”

They stared that each other for a long moment, and then Arcadia nodded. “Fine,” she turned on her heel quickly and strode across the room, grabbing the pillow and top blanket that was on the bed. She gathered it up into a ball, and stepping back towards Jamie, threw it at him. “I don’t like the feel of the blanket anyway. Take it, sleep on the floor, as I am going to, and I’ll see you in the morning.” Her words were clipped and short, the only indication that she was angry at all.

Although, she couldn’t understand why she was angry, only that she was, and it was directed at Jamie. Before Jamie could say another words, she closed the door hard, making the wood rattle. His face had been wide with confusion and surprise, but any reply had been muffled by her retreat to the side of the bed, where she pulled out her bedding roll, and laid it out to sleep.

On the other side of the door, Jamie clutched at the bedding in his hands, unsure of what he had done to warrant such a reaction. He looked down in defeat, but then whispered, “I’ll be right here,” to the silent door, knowing that he was speaking to nothing.

*****

Arcadia woke in the night, sweat drenching through her clothes. She hadn’t taken off her skirt or jacket before she had gone to sleep, and she was regretting it. She quickly pulled off her skirt and jacket, and the top layer of her own clothes. Once she was in her tank top and pants, she felt a bit more relief.

But it wasn’t the heat from the fire that caused her sweating. It was the nightmare that haunted her dreams. Ever since she had been on the road, her nightmares had been held at bay. They had been few and far in between, and for that she had been grateful. But whenever she had to sleep alone in a room at an inn, her nightmares came back full force, as if a dam burst.

She breathed in deeply, trying to calm her fast-beating heart. There were tears on her face, which mingled in with her sweat, making her face feel crusty and an odd mixture of dry and wet. She wiped at it to no avail, and so she stood up from her bed on the floor over to the wash basin that had been provided to her earlier in the day. She splashed her face with water, still marveling at how she could have such a precious resource at her literal finger tips. She grabbed a wash cloth and wiped at her face, relishing the clean feeling that the liquid back at base never gave her.

She sighed heavily, but then sucked in a breath harshly. A new wave of tears had sprouted behind her eyes, and she couldn’t hold it back. Arcadia leaned against her hands, over the bowl of water, and her tears made little droplet sounds as they hit the water. Another gasp filled her, and she tried to hold it back as well, but it ripped out of her mouth unwillingly. She clamped a hand over it to muffle the sound.

_Gun._

She closed her eyes and shook her head, keeping her hand firmly over her mouth.

_Biting metal on her __wrists_.

Hot, wet, salty tears flowed down her cheeks, flowing into the crease of her hands and trailing into her mouth.

_Screams of pain,_

She grimaced.

_Snapping bones, _

She cried out, muffled and full of pain.

_‘I tried so hard to…’_

She let go of her hand and breathed in harshly, but before she could cover her mouth again, a loud and ache filed cry escaped.

She could feel her hands shaking, her body was trembling, and she dropped to her knees. Placing her hands on the floor, Arcadia lowered her head and tried again to calm her breathing.

Then she heard a knock at the door.

“Hark?” the voice was muffled, but she knew it was Jamie. He was still outside her door.

She didn’t reply. She didn’t trust herself to reply normally, so she simply refused. Pressing her lips together in the attempts to stop crying, she shook her head.

Another gasp escaped her, again unwillingly.

The latch on the door squeaked open, and the door opened slowly, causing it to creak loudly and painfully on its hinges.

“Hark?” Jamie asked again, poking his head through the door.

He saw her kneeling body near the basin and quickly moved into the room, uncaring of what might be said later.

“Arcadia!” he whispered fiercely. He knelt down gently beside her and hovered his hand over her back, “What is it?” he asked.

Arcadia took a deep breath, but didn’t look at him. He had seen her like this too many times, she was getting annoyed at her own weakness.

But it seems that Jamie was smarter than he looked, “Are you having those terrors again?” he asked gently, taking a cautious step and placing his hand on her shoulder.

Arcadia whimpered at the contact, but pushed into it. It helped calm the storm in her mind, the never ending cycle of vision after vision of everything she had endured.

Jamie began to gently move his thumb, rubbing her shoulder with as much tenderness as he could in that moment, afraid to do anything else that might set her off.

Her cries slowly faded, and her breathing came back to somewhat normal, and Arcadia managed to lift her head. It felt heavy and fuzzy, as if she had been drinking all night. She lolled her head to the side to look at Jamie, and his heart broke.

Jamie had only seen her eyes this broken once before, and that had been a while ago. Instantly, he moved in a bit more, to wrap his arms around her. He pulled gently and held her against him, and he felt her deflate in his arms. His cheek rested against the top of her head, and it smelled clean. An odd mixture of earth, spice, and another thing he could not quite place. He closed his eyes, relishing in it, breathing in deep.

He held her for a few long moments, and she visibly relaxed more, which he took as a good sign. He shifted a bit, to get more comfortable, but suddenly, her hand was clutching his jacket.

“Please, don’t go,” she whispered, her voice cracking and hoarse from her episode.

Jamie sat still for a moment, unsure of what to do next, but he knew that he would not leave her. He couldn’t. Thinking a moment, he nodded to himself, and shifted again, but this time, adjusting his hands to grip her firmly under her legs. He lifted her up a bit, and adjusted his footing, and stood up gently. She clung to him hard, which made it easier for Jamie to maneuver. Jamie walked over to the bed, and turned so that he could sit on the edge of it. Without moving her off of him, he shuffled enough to sit against the head board and cradle Arcadia in his arms. Mentally, Jamie was going mad. So many thoughts were swirling in his head about the implications this would have on her reputation, and his, and whether or not he could protect her later. But in that moment, Arcadia shifted a bit so she was sitting next to him rather than on top, and she pressed her head against his chest. Her arms wrapped around his middle and she held on tight. Jamie felt oddly at peace with her like that next to him, her body warm and fit perfectly against his. It was in that moment that he realized she was only in her pants and cropped shirt. His eyes widened at the indecency, but he was unable to do anything about it. So, Jamie relaxed as best as he could and sighed.

He could also see her scars on her shoulders and poking out from under her shirt. He gently raised his hand, the one that had encircled around her back, and placed it on her shoulder, skin touching skin. He hadn’t noticed before, but now that he was no longer worried about Arcadia, he could feel it now. His fingers felt like they were on fire, and they tingled all the way up his arm, over his body. He swallowed, willing himself to remain calm.

Meanwhile, Arcadia didn’t really register what Jamie had done. All she knew, was that she was no longer on the floor, and there was this tingling warmth that was grounding her. She could feel his heartbeat under her head, pounding in her ear, like a drum. It was steady and powerful, healthy and wonderful. She closed her eyes, relishing in the feeling of warmth, of calm. Her breathing was normalizing, and the remnants of her nightmare were receding. She swallowed when she felt a hand shift on her back, gently tracing the shape of one of her many scars, causing her to shiver. It was relaxing and soothing, and soon, Arcadia drifted to sleep.

*****

Arcadia cracked an eye open, feeling a small sliver of sunlight hit her eyes. She blinked against the brightness, and moved her head. It was then that she realized that there was something warm under her. She moved back a bit more and blinked a few more times to see clearly. Jamie was sleeping under her, his mouth slack and he was breathing through his nose. Little snores escaped every so often, and Arcadia could not think of anything more beautiful than in that moment. He looked so young, and peaceful, his face no longer bearing the burden of the world.

She swallowed, and turned her head to look around. Her saw that he legs were intertwined with his, his kilt ridden up just a bit to show off his knees. She still had her clothes on, and so did Jamie, but the intimacy of their position was both unnerving and simple. Arcadia didn’t want to move, and yet she knew she had to, to protect Jamie’s sense of honour. Closing her eyes, she relished the feeling of Jamie’s body against her, how warm and right it felt. How his breath was even and slow from sleep, and had an effective calming sense over Arcadia’s frayed nerves.

Arcadia slowly turned her head a bit, and lowered it back to where it had been when she woke. She took a deep breath, and savoured his smell. He smelt of leather, horses, and a bit of smoke. There was the strong, undeniable manly smell about him that she couldn’t pinpoint. It filled her mind with ease, and she focused on how it made her feel. She wanted just another minute in that head space before the world took over again and she would be alone.

After counting out a minute, she began to pull away, slowly extricating herself from Jamie’s body. She gently moved her legs from out of Jamie’s, cautiously monitoring his heartbeat, ensuring that he wasn’t awake. Her one arm was underneath him, while the other was flung across his chest. Twisting her body slightly, she began to move away, pulling her arm out from under Jamie.

Jamie’s arms tightened.

Arcadia quickly looked up, and saw Jamie staring at her with somewhat sleepy eyes, but getting clearer with each blink.

She held her breath, waiting for Jamie’s eyes to widen and freak out, possible violently tossing her aside in the hopes to jump out of bed as quickly as possible.

Jamie didn’t move.

Their eyes stayed locked onto one another, a bated breath between them. Jamie tightened his hold on Arcadia, effectively pulling her back closer to his body, where she had been earlier. Arcadia felt his leg shift slightly, gently touching her knee, but stopping there. Arcadia replaced her hand over his chest, leaning against it a bit more firmly, relaxing again. But this time, she was a bit further up, having moved her body in order to get away. Now, her face was closer to his face, and she could feel his breath caress her own.

She shivered at the feeling, and looked down at his lips.

The tension in the air was tight as a wire, and yet, Arcadia didn’t feel anxious. She felt like she was doing something right, something that her soul needed in that moment.

It was a mutual moment, leaning in bit by it, keeping their eyes on each other to make sure that they would see the moment either of them wanted to back away. But Arcadia didn’t want to move away, and neither did Jamie. Their noses brushed just a bit, and the tension reached its peak with a jolt, and Arcadia leaned in the last bit, pressing her lips to Jamie’s.

Arcadia didn’t know what she was doing exactly, having never kissed someone before, but she felt that Jamie knew enough, as she felt him reciprocate the kiss with equal measure. His lips felt so soft against hers, she felt her body melt. Arcadia pressed against him a bit more with her body, fully leaning into the kiss. She had never felt more at peace than in that moment, the entirety of Jamie’s being consuming her. His smell, the weight of his arm around her, the gentle touch of his knee. Every part of her was surrounded by Jamie, and Arcadia knew in that moment, that she was safe in Jamie’s arms. Truly and irrevocably. He was the reason why her nightmares had lessened, and he was the reason that he could calm her down. His presence allowed Arcadia to ground herself back into the moment, back to reality. Arcadia pulled away from him gently, in the attempts to catch her breath.

Jamie raised his head a bit, trying to maintain the firm, lovely pressure between their lips. He chased Arcadia, shifting his body so that she was no longer on top of him, but rather they were beside one another. He kissed her gently again, his lips tingling as he felt her purse her lips to meet his. He brought a hand from around her back to cup her face. He could feel that she was mimicking his movements, and it occurred to Jamie that she had never been kissed before. He remembered previous conversations, about how she had received her scars, and it struck him hard that she had been mistreated so horribly, that it probably had effected her views of courtship, and other things. With this in mind, he slowed himself down. He drew out the kiss, making sure to stay in the moment with her, to make sure that if anything where to change, he could stop in an instant.

But the more Arcadia reciprocated, the more Jamie wanted to get lost in it. His kissed a bit harder now, partially opening his mouth, just a bit, gasping for breath. He heard Arcadia gasp as well, and her body tensed up. He pulled away immediately, but stayed close.

He watched her eyes for a moment, and they were open wide and Arcadia was breathing heavily. But she wasn’t fearful. Jamie’s eyes roamed over her face for a moment, taking in her blush on her cheeks.

Arcadia watched as a smile spread over Jamie’s face, and she felt her heart stop. As in, literally skipped two beats, before it restarted. She slowly returned the smile, her own lips tugging upwards, as she felt this odd feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She felt Jamie’s hand caress her face, and gently brush away some of her hair from her face.

“Arcadia,” Jamie whispered, his voice low and soft, so as to not break the silence of the room. The fire had died down in the night, so there was barely a crackle of ember, and there were no sounds coming from the floor, indicating any movement downstairs, which meant no one was up just yet. For Arcadia, the room felt muffled, softened, the only sounds where Jamie’s breathing and her own.

Arcadia stared at Jamie for another moment, before closing her eyes at the feel of his hand brushing through her hair. It was a wonderful, tender filled movement that made Arcadia shiver, and lean into the touch.

Jamie noticed how his hand made her feel, and he decided in that moment to keep doing it. Clearly, she was not accustomed to having someone touch her in such a way, and the slow, steady movements of his hand were enough to settle her, but not too much to overwhelm her. Jamie felt that he needed to tread carefully from here on out, though. Although he didn’t know exactly what plagued her dreams, he knew that they caused her to feel on edge and volatile afterwards. Today, on the road to the next village, he would stay close to her.

But for the moment, he watched her. Watched how her smile faded gently into a serene bliss as his fingers worked through her hair. Watched how her skin had goose pimples over her arms, how her arms tightened around him every so often, as if she was reassuring herself that he was real. Jamie held her gently as the sun rose a bit more into the sky, until the first signs of people moving downstairs told them it was time to get up.


	17. Not This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fighting, more riding, bonding (ish) with Murtagh, and the introduction of a horrible character. 
> 
> Shit's about to get real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Sorry it has taken so long! Got called into work a bunch of times, and so had no time to actually write anything.   
Hope you enjoy this chapter! It may not be as long as some of the other ones, but it does move the story up a bit. :) 
> 
> As always, feedback is appreciated!! 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

Downstairs at breakfast, Arcadia sat near a small window eating some porridge that the inn keeper’s wife gave her. It was hot and mushy, but still more flavourful than some of the meals she had at the facility. Across from her, Ned Gowan was going over the books for the rent, probably adjusting the amounts to cover Dougal’s tracks. She paid little interest in him, not having much to discuss with him, although she did ease his pain in his chest during the course of their trip. He warmed to her immensely, and had been nice to her ever since.

The other men were sitting in the tavern as well, but a bit farther away from her and talking amongst themselves. Every so often, however, she could feel the eyes of the village men stray in her direction. They whispered and murmured in Gaelic, their curiosity about her to each other, and she kept her face blank as she listened to them. At one point, one of the men when a rather rude comment about her, how she was the only women in the troupe and most likely there for more than just healing. Her jaw clenched a bit, but she forced herself to remain calm.

Jamie heard the joke, and turned to face Arcadia, knowing full well that she understood some of what they said. He caught her eye. His eyes were a bit wide as he shook his head slightly, warning her to not interact. She sighed a bit, forcing her shoulders to relax a bit.

But to her surprise, Angus stood up from the far table, where he had been sitting with Dougal and the others, and walked over to the village men. He grabbed one of the men’s head and bashed it into the table. There was a sudden flurry of movement, men standing up, knocking back their chairs and joining in the fight. Punches were thrown, grunts of pain filled the air. The troupe joined in as well, Murtagh almost smiling at the scene.

Arcadia watched with vague amusement, clocking who was hit where just in case she needed to intervene and stop someone from killing each other.

She saw Rupert lift a chair and bash it against a man, breaking it into several pieces. Another man tackled young William. Chaos ensued, and Jamie had joined the fray. Everyone, except Ned and Arcadia, was fighting, destroying the tavern.

However, a village man managed to move away from the group and stumble over to Arcadia and Ned, who had moved away from the fray.

“Oh, lass, why don’t you come warm our beds this evening. A whore’s training is never finished,” he sneered.

Arcadia stared at the man for a moment, and she heard Ned hum in disapproval. But then Arcadia allowed the smallest grin to stretch her lips, and she saw confusion fill the man’s eyes. Quickly placing her feet in a more stable position, she cocked her fist back and threw a punch directly in the man’s jaw. A loud grunt escaped his mouth as he stumbled, clutching at his jaw. He turned back to stare at her with wide eyes, but she was ready with another swing, her other fist connecting with the other side of his jaw. Blood and a bit of tooth flew from his mouth. She leaned back onto one foot, and lifting the other, she kicked him square in the chest, making him fall onto his back with a loud thump. The noise caught the attention of several men, and the sounds of fighting slowly diminished. She stood staring down at the man, who was holding his jaw with one hand, and had his other hand over his chest. He groaned in pain, lolling side to side.

Flexing her fists, cracking them a bit, she took a few steps towards the man and knelt down beside him. She looked at his face and saw that she only dislocated his jaw, and broken two teeth. He would live, but she needed to put the jaw back into place.

Lifting her open hand, she raised it to his face. The man flinched a bit, whimpering, but she simply raised an eyebrow and he remained silent. Pressing both her hands to his face, she snapped the jaw painfully back into place. He yelled out in pain, and she soothed it just a bit. He would still have a lot of pain, but at least he would maybe learn from this experience.

“I’m not a whore,” she stated flatly, tilting her head from one side to the other, “That jaw will hurt for about two weeks, so no strenuously activity, like sucking a horse’s dick.”

The man’s eyes widened at her remark, and she felt a hand touch her shoulder. She looked up and saw Jamie, his eyes wide and almost angry.

She stood up to face him head on and waited for him to speak.

He breathed deeply, before opening his mouth, “Hark, that was not right.”

She shrugged.

He sighed, “Nor was it the actions of a lady. You canna do that,” he pleaded.

Arcadia eyes narrowed at him, her gaze cold, before glancing around the room. She assessed that no one was seriously injured, and thus didn’t need her help. So she decided to answer honestly as she turned back to Jamie.

“Fuck being a lady.”

She walked out of the tavern room, shoving men aside when they didn’t move out of her way, probably using a bit too much force, but for the time being, she couldn’t care less. 

*****

He had hoped that the moment they had shared yesterday morning had been enough to quell her violent tendencies, especially when it came to fighting, but Jamie couldn’t help but feel disappointed with Arcadia for involving herself in the fight back at the tavern in the last village. Part of him was impressed at how she handled herself, but the other part of him wanted to make sure she would be safe, and openly fighting with men, and beating them, was something that would put into harm’s way. Jamie frowned as they rode onto the next village, Arcadia riding at the back of the troupe with the carts and young William. Every so often, he would glance back at her, make sure she was still there, make sure that she was alright, but each time he did, she did not return his gaze.

After a while, the troupe stopped to rest the horses along side a river. Jamie watched as Arcadia stood a bit away from the group, tending to her horse with such care, and looking into the river with reverence. He never understood why she was so fascinated by the water, or the general lack of knowledge when it came to nature. Thinking about what had transpired for a moment, he apparently let his face show his emotions. He heard Murtagh gruff and he stood, trudging over to Arcadia. Jamie watched with concern, not sure of Murtagh’s intentions.

Arcadia listened to the ripple of the water as it flowed past her, and she watched as it danced over the slimy rocks underneath. She would never get over how amazing it looked. She watched to go swimming again, but the weather and water were too cold for that now. Footsteps drew closer to her, and she turned her head to see Murtagh coming over. She didn’t move, not because she was scared, but because she knew she had no reason to be frightened of him. His heart-rate didn’t tell her that he was coming over to discipline her or beat her, not that he could. Instead, he was calm. Gruff like always, but calm.

He stood in front of her for a moment, before crouching down.

“It was your honour we were defending.” He stared, sighing out a breath and grasping his one hand with the other. “The lout called you a whore.”

Arcadia didn’t blink, but rather gave him a knowing look, to which his face replied with a bit of surprise, raising one brow.

His lip twitched, but then he continued, “You’re a guest of the Mackenzie. We can insult you, But God help any other man that does.” He paused, “Well, I suppose in this case God’s will acted swiftly.”

Arcadia continued to stare at him, wondering what point he was trying to make.

Murtagh, being the sort of man that he is, seemed to have come to that same conclusion. “We had it handled. There was no need you for to go and hit that man.” He said bluntly.

“He deserved it.” Arcadia said, equally bluntly.

Murtagh nodded, “Aye, he did. But you have to at least pretend you’re a normal lady.” He glanced back at the troupe of men, who were slowly beginning to gather their things to move on. “Although… I’ve never seen Jacob so silent in my life,” he said with a chuckle.

Arcadia calmed a bit at Murtagh’s reaction, and conceded a bit to his observations and suggestions. Sighing, she nodded, “Fine. I will pretend to be somewhat more normal.”

“Good.”

At the Murtagh rose from his crouch, stretched his legs a bit, and without another word, turned back towards the others. Arcadia watched him as he left, but her gaze wandered over to Jamie, who was looking intently at both her and Murtagh, and was doing a very poor job at hiding it. She caught his gaze, and softened her face a bit, pursing her lips in a half smile. It seemed to brighten Jamie, as he straightened his back and seemed to have visibly calmed.

Murtagh walked up to Jamie right after and grumbled, “You’re welcome.”

Jamie blushed a bit, and looked down, focusing on readying his horse, rather than think about the implications to what Murtagh was referring.

Arcadia soon joined the men for the final preparation of the rest of their journey, and she heard Rupert talking. He was in the middle of a story about his adventures in bed.

“So there I am, in bed, Harelip Chrissie on my left and Sweaty Netty, the butcher’s daughter, on my right.” He paused as Angus chuckles.

Arcadia raised a brow at the content, but shook her head, almost amused. She hoisted herself up to get on her horse, adjusting her skirts roughly, grumbling under her breath about how useless and ridiculous they were to wear. She heard Jamie huff a laugh under his breath as he came over to check on her.

Meanwhile, Rupert smiled brightly and continued his story, “They get jealous of each other, start arguing about who I’m going to swive first.” A few men laugh, and he presses on, proud as can be, “Can you believe it?”

Suddenly, Arcadia felt a bubble of laughter form in her chest, and it escaped her mouth with a loud, “Ha!” She smiled a bit as she adjusted her reigns, attempting to hide her amusement, but needing to say what made her laugh. “I believe your left hand gets jealous of your right.”

Despite the wind, it was dead silent. Arcadia could feel every set of eyes on her, and she groaned internally. ‘_So much for pretending to be normal_,’ she thought to herself.

And then there was a great belly laugh echoing around the men, Rupert being the loudest. Arcadia raised her head a bit, flushing slightly. Rupert’s face was bright red as he laughed hard, and Angus was equally incapacitated.

Arcadia turned her head to see that everyone was smiling and chuckling. She smiled a bit despite herself, just as Jamie caught her attention. He leaned in a bit towards her, “You’re a witty one.”

She grinned slightly at him, but before she could reply, Rupert’s laughter interrupted.

“I’ve never heard a woman make a joke!” he exclaimed, trying to stop his laughing.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Murtagh interjected.

Arcadia looked at him, and nodded. She was beginning to like Murtagh, and felt a similar kinship to him as she did with Cane. At least so far as she had when Cane and her had first met.

As the men calmed down, Dougal called for them to mount and be off.

******

The next day, the troupe came to their destination, only to find it on fire. Arcadia looked around and saw there were many men running about, causing trouble for the village people, who were standing clustered together near the last standing building. She frowned when she heard a sudden curse, and horse hooves leading away from the group. She glanced around her to see Jamie’s head bobbing away in the distance.

Leading her horse towards Murtagh, she leaned in, “Where’s Jamie going?”

Murtagh didn’t glance back, but gruffly replied, “Those men are the Watch. Jamie has a bounty on his head, and they’d snatch him up in a second if they found him.”

Arcadia’s frown deepened, as she watched the events unfold. “Loyal to money?” she asked coldly.

“Aye,” Murtagh grumbled.

After a moment, Arcadia asked, “What did Jamie do to have a bounty on his head?”

Murtagh turned to look at her with a steady glare. Pursing his lips, a bit, he shifted in his saddle, “He’s wanted for murder.”

“But he’s innocent,” Arcadia stated plainly, not asking a question.

Murtagh nodded.

Arcadia didn’t say anything in reply, but soon followed the rest of the men as they rode on, moving past the village as soon as Dougal returned from speaking with the Watch men and villagers.

Later that day, Arcadia fidgeted in her saddle. Jamie had not returned yet, and they had by passed the Watch several hours ago. She subtly cast her gaze around the area every so often, seemingly taking in the sights. As beautiful as they were, she couldn’t really focus on them. She was more focused on finding Jamie. Even Dougal seemed a bit antsy when Jamie didn’t return by nightfall. They were about half way between their last destination and their next, unable and unwilling to keep going in the night with the heavy rain that fell upon them. As Arcadia set up her tent, with William’s help, she listened carefully to the men, who were speaking quietly to one another in Gaelic, clearly concerned with Jamie’s whereabouts.

That night, Arcadia didn’t sleep well. She woke every hour or so, unable to calm her nerves. Each time she closed her eyes, she was plagued with nightmares, that now included Jamie. She did her best not to make too much noise, forcing herself to be quiet so that the men could get some proper rest. Despite having been in this time for a few months now, Arcadia was still accustomed to living on little sleep.

By the early morning, the rain stopped, leaving the world around Arcadia wet and cold. She wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, shivering slightly at the cold. She was thankful for the wool jacket Mrs. Fitz had given her, and the skirt, although she loathed to admit it. Arcadia watched as the sun rose over the hills, filling the land with light. She gazed around, trying to see a figure in the distance. But there was nothing, and it was making Arcadia even more unsettled.

It was a quiet morning as the troupe collecting their gear and headed out. They would make their next destination by midday, and Arcadia hoped that Jamie had just moved onto that village, and was waiting for them.

Arcadia rode beside Murtagh, near the middle of the group, enjoying his silent company. Some of the men had settled into a low conversation, but the mood was less joyful than previous days.

As they came to a hill, Arcadia’s back straightened, as she heard the heartbeats of a lot more people, including horses. She whipped her head up, and looked behind her. Murtagh noticed her sudden movement, and followed her gaze.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Men and horses behind us,” she stated briskly, looking to Murtagh sharply.

Murtagh frowned. He looked back at Arcadia with a curious gaze, but didn’t question it. He had been there when they had first found her, and somehow, she had managed to warn them about the attack by the British Army. Clicking his tongue, he nudged his feet into the sides of his horse and moved forward towards Dougal. Arcadia kept her head turned, watching for the approaching men. Soon, Dougal came up beside her.

“How many?” he asked.

Arcadia listened for a moment, “At least fifteen.”

“A company then. Either a captain or lieutenant.” Dougal said, leaning over to Murtagh to give him instructions, before going back to the front of the troupe.

They slowly made their way over the hill, proceeding as normal. Murtagh resumed his position beside Arcadia, and she could feel the tension in everyone. They were about to head into a dangerous situation, that much Arcadia knew.

Murtagh spoke her to then, “You are not to speak when they stop us, d’ye understand?”

Arcadia glanced at him sideways, and nodded. She wasn’t too keen on speaking with anyone that would could potentially get her into more trouble.

“And for the love of God, don’t punch anyone.” Murtagh said gravely, although Arcadia detected a hint of humour in his voice at the admonishment.

Arcadia rolled her eyes at him, “Okay,” she drawled. It seems that her violent reputation was still an issue.

Soon enough, the sounds of horses galloping were able to the heard, and everyone turned back to see, as if they hadn’t been tipped off by their approach. Arcadia followed their lead, and before she could really focus on the approaching men, Murtagh cursed.

She raised a brow at him, and he shook his head slightly, visibly angry.

“Randall.”

Arcadia gave him a blank stare, unsure what the name meant.

Murtagh clenched his mouth tightly, and his hands tightened on his reigns. “He’s the bastard who flogged Jamie.” He explained quietly.

Arcadia went rigid. Anger and loathing coursed through her body in a second, as she turned more fully to focus on the men approaching. She didn’t know who it was, but they were all wearing red coats, and immediately Arcadia felt a great amount of animosity towards them.

“Murtagh, what’s your full name?” Arcadia asked quickly but quietly.

Murtagh gave her a confused look, but answered anyway, “Fitzgibbons.”

“Like Mrs. Fitz?” she asked, genuinely surprised.

“She’s kin. Why do you need to know?”

Arcadia gave him a hard stare, “I have a feeling things can and will go bad,” she murmured quietly, an uneasy feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

Their troupe halted their movements, pulling their carts and horses over to the side, to allow the company to pass them. At least, they hoped they would simply pass them.

But luck was not on their side that day. The company slowed down and came to a halt as the front man reached Dougal.

“State your clan name and business,” the man said, speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear.

Arcadia heard the disdain in the man’s voice, but he clearly wasn’t in charge. She knew what a commanding officer sounded like, and this wasn’t him. She carefully scanned the rest of the men, looking for the one who was actually in charge. Murtagh was no help, as he kept his gaze off the men slightly, whether of fear of retribution, or anger, Arcadia couldn’t tell which in the moment.

“Dougal Mackenzie, war chief and brother to Colum, laird of the Mackenzie Clan and the lands upon which you stand. We are collecting our rent from out tenants.”

“Is that all you’re doing?” a voice piped up from among the men.

The voice was startlingly lurid, with how low and strong it was. A dark shiver ran down Arcadia’s back. She was instantly unsettled by the tenor of the man’s voice. She knew right then that he was the man in charge, since she knew what a man in command sounded like. But it was an ominous feeling, since the last time she had experienced that level of darkness, she herself had been whipped.

The man who spoke made his way forward, his cold gaze roving over everyone in the troupe. Arcadia could feel fire in her veins as he approached, unease taking over her entire body. But she kept her face blank. Too many times had she come to face such men, and each time she had defied them with everything she had.

“What else would we be doing?” Dougal asked, his voice betraying his annoyance.

The man, Randall, slowly made his way towards Dougal, pausing for a moment to look at Arcadia. His cold eyes on her face made her stomach turn, but she kept her gaze firm, not giving him an inch. This resulted in him quirking an eyebrow, and smirking slightly.

He turned his attention to Dougal, “Harbouring a fugitive,” he said accusingly.

There was a collective intake of breath, and Arcadia could see Dougal stiffen.

“There is reason to believe that James Fraser is associated closely with the Mackenzies. As it stands, Fraser is wanted for murder. It is our duty to ascertain his whereabouts.” Randall explained, his voice dripping with a wicked glee that reminded Arcadia of the tentacled man.

“There is no James Fraser here. Nor on the lands of the Mackenzie.” Dougal stated plainly, although his voice betrayed just a slight tremble.

“No? Because I had been informed by one of the associates of the crown that the Mackenzie troupe traipsing all over the country side consisted of ten men, not nine,” Randall explained, gesturing towards the troupe.

Dougal raised an eyebrow, “Then your man must have miscounted. We’ve only had nine the whole journey.” His voice was firm.

Randall’s lips pursed in an ugly fashion, and he licked the corner of his lips. Arcadia watched his little ticks and noticed that he was becoming more agitated the more they spoke without actually getting anywhere.

But then, he turned his attention to Arcadia. She sat stock still as he steered his horse closer to her. Her hands tightened on the reins slightly, but forced herself to remain calm.

“And who, may I ask, are you?” Randall’s voice changed slightly, attempting to go for a sultry, predatory tone.

“She’s -” Murtagh began.

“I believe the lady can speak for herself.” Randall interrupted, sideways glancing at Murtagh with daggers in his eyes.

Arcadia took a deep breath, feeling a spike of heart-rate in Murtagh’s chest, and a few of the troupe. She turned her head slightly towards the group, the slightest shake, before turning her gaze back to Randall. She placed her hand on the inside of her wrist, activating the implant in her head, and selecting the language options, making it so that her voice would sound Scottish. She had been gradually building her vocabulary library in her implant over the months she had been there, and there was now a large influx of information for her.

Glancing at Murtagh for a split second, she opened her mouth,

“Anne Fitzgibbons,” she said, in a perfect Scottish accent, “Cousin to Murtagh Fitzgibbons,” she gestured to Murtagh beside her.

Thankfully, none of the men in the troupe batted an eye at her deception, but she could hear their hearts begin to race.

Randall, however, was clearly surprised. He leaned back in his saddle and proceeded to assess her more thoroughly. “And why are you out in the wilderness with these men?” he asked, seeming to allude to less appropriate reasons.

Arcadia scowled, but lifted her head, “I’m their healer. It was going to be a long journey, and they needed to have someone who knew what they were doing.” She kept her voice clipped and harsh, like Murtagh’s, but inside she was shaking.

She had put herself into a seriously dangerous position, considering how she knew that Dougal didn’t trust her. None of the men did, not truly, like Jamie. But in the moment, it was either become suspicious among people who knew her, or become suspicious to an enemy. She had grown used to the Mackenzies, and she would much rather prefer to have to deal with them than have this man in front of her question her.

Randall nodded, but Arcadia could tell that he was a naturally distrusting person, and thus was suspicious of their activity.

“Is Dougal, war chief of the Mackenzie clan, lying about the whereabouts of James Fraser?” Randall pressed, leaning forward in his saddle, trying to be intimidating.

Arcadia kept her face neutral, and shook her head, “No. Only the nine of us. Don’t know a James Fraser.”

And it was true. She didn’t know a James Fraser. But immediately, she knew that he was taking about Jamie. He had never given her his last name, and no one ever really addressed him as anything else.

But the look Randall gave her made her skin crawl. His lip twitched, as if he was amused with how off putting he was. “Of course.”

He turned his horse away from Arcadia, and she felt her shoulders slump just the tiniest bit. She didn’t realize how afraid she was until that moment. The man was terrifying, and she had been faced with several horrifying people of her own. Murtagh gave her a stern look, but then nodded. She had done well apparently.

Randall spoke with Dougal for a moment longer, before he called for his men to move on. It was a while before the troupe began to move again. It was a long, silent journey to the village.

****

Once in the village, a smaller one than the last, Arcadia got off her horse carefully. She was ready for a fight. She could literally feel the tension in the group because of her lie to Randall. It was a sign that she knew more, had learned more, and retained more than she let on. She stayed a bit away from group as they unloaded their horses, watching cautiously, in case she needed to run or defend herself.

Murtagh was the first to approach her, his eyes hard and striking. He stood in front of her for a moment, hands resting on his hips. He sniffed and cleared his throat.

“How long have you been able to talk like that?” he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Arcadia stared at him, wondering if her lie would help or hinder her. Shifting her feet, she stood up a bit straighter. “I’ve been working on it since I got here.”

Murtagh raised a brow, “And I suppose in the few months you’ve been here, you just happen to speak with a Scottish accent perfectly?”

“It worked didn’t it?” Arcadia countered.

“Aye, it did. But what I’m worried about is Dougal’s reaction.” Murtagh spoke quietly, glancing back just a bit over his shoulder.

Arcadia knew that any trust that Dougal had in her had been completely obliterated. She knew it the second she had opened her mouth.

“It worked,” Arcadia reiterated, standing firm.

Murtagh grumbled, and shook his head slightly. He returned to his horse, and proceeded to take care of his horse’s saddle.

Arcadia watched as the rests of the men did the same, but she kept glancing at Dougal, waiting for the moment that he would try to do something. Anything. But oddly enough, he didn’t. He ignored her completely, not even glancing at her. It put her on edge, but she didn’t let on that anything was wrong. She kept her face blank, and she continued her routine as normal. She joined the men into the village inn, and sat down at a table that was far enough away from the men to not get into trouble, but also close enough to hear their conversation.

“Dougal! Good to see you!” the village inn keeper cajoled, raising her arms high in the air. She reminded Arcadia of Mrs. Fitz.

“Mary, good to see you as well,” Dougal replied, his voice carrying over the tavern. “How is Thomas?”

Mary the Inn keeper sagged a little, bringing her hands down to her hips, “He’s not doing well, I’m afraid. Sick with fever that seems to want to stay with him,” she shook her head sadly, “I don’t know if…” she trailed off, her voice cracking a bit.

Dougal gave her an affectionate pat on the arm, and whispered to her. Arcadia watched as the woman slowly began to nod and pat away at her tears.

Shaking off her sudden rush of emotion, Mary the Inn keeper smiled slightly, “You’ve come at a good time. An English military company was meant to stay here tonight and the next, but they’ve gone off in a hurry. Called back to Fort William,” Mary leaned forward, “Apparently, there’s been an arrest of a man wanted for murder.”

Arcadia sat straight up and whipped her head towards Dougal and Mary. Her eyes were wide as she listened for more information.

“An arrest you say?” Dougal asked, his voice clearly showing his shock.

Mary nodded, “Aye, Gus heard from Tanner that a small group of the Watch managed to capture the man, just some ways from here! Took him straight to Fort William. Captain Randall seemed quite pleased and ordered his company to forge on ahead,” she explained, her hands wringing a cloth tightly.

Arcadia’s chest tightened painfully. She could feel that her body was starting to shake, so she clenched her fist tightly to stop it. Swallowing hard, she turned her head toward Murtagh, and by the look on his face, she could tell that he had heard, and also assumed that she was talking about Jamie.

Dougal’s voice, no matter how low he tried to speak, always seems to carry throughout a room, “Do you know if it was young Jamie?” he asked hesitantly.

Mary looked at Dougal with disheartened eyes, “There’s no many men with red hair like Jamie’s, Dougal.” 

Arcadia watched as Dougal’s shoulders slumped, hanging his head down. It was now silent in the room, since now every man heard what had happened. She waited for the moment that they were going to get moving, to go and get Jamie, but the longer she waited, the less sure she was about their concern for him. She glanced at Murtagh, and there was only a somber look about his face. The tightness in her chest came back, hitting her at full speed.

Flashes of that horrid, wretched day, came to her mind. She blinked back against the sudden rush of tears, as his face swept across her mind.

*

_Dannick nodded, sighing slightly, “By the stars, Arcadia, I will come back in one piece.” _

_He reached out his arm towards her slightly, and she clasped his wrist tightly. While touching him, Arcadia sent a bit of extra energy throughout his body to make his sharp and ready for anything. Dannick did not react, as she did that all the time, especially before missions. _

_“By the stars, Dannick, I’ll kill you otherwise.” She said gently, a hint of a smile on her lips. _

_He smirked. They released arms, and Dannick turned to pick up his pack. _

_“Three days. That’s all.” Dannick said, turning back to her once more._

_*_

Gasping out of the memory, her eyes flew open. Murtagh was looking at her with a curious expression, but otherwise made no move towards her. Arcadia glanced around, and all she saw was defeat. All she saw was the Stitcher that couldn’t do her job. All she could see was the one man who trusted her, whom she trusted in this forsaken place, was no longer by her side, was no longer safe.

But she wasn’t going to let it happen again.

Not this time.

“Where’s Fort William?” she asked, her voice cold and determined.


	18. Or I'll Break You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia goes to rescue Jamie, despite Dougal's disapproval.   
Once at Fort William, Arcadia goes straight into action.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry, it's been a while... Again... 
> 
> Anywhooooooo, here is another chapter. I think I will be extending this one a bit more, over like two chapters. The episode I am referring to is The Reckoning, and I am changing things up a bit. There is something in this chapter though, that I hope some people will catch, as it sets up a few things later ;) 
> 
> As always feedback is appreciated, and thanks for the kudos!!
> 
> Thank you kindly,

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dougal called out, as he followed Arcadia out of the inn towards the horses.

Arcadia didn’t answer as she strode purposefully towards her horse. She paused to grab her saddle, and placed it on its back, and quickly and efficiently strapped in place.

“I said, where are you going?” Dougal growled as he came up beside her, placing his hand over the saddle, blocking her from getting up.

She turned her head to face him, glaring with an icy stare.

“Move,” she said firmly.

Dougal glared at her with wide, angry eyes. “What do you think you’re going to do? Save him?

“Yes.” Her voice was calm, but determined.

And it seemed that Dougal heard the conviction in her voice, as his face morphed slowly in surprise. He was silent for a long moment, but he didn’t move. Arcadia could feel her impatience wearing out, but she continued to hold Dougal’s gaze. She needed him to know, to understand, that she was going to go Jamie, whether he liked it or not.

Not to her surprise, Dougal’s face shifted, his lips twitching into an arrogant smile. “And how, may I ask, are you going to do that? None of my men will go with ye, and ye canna fight off the entire company at the fort.” He scoffed, “I’ve seen you in action. But up against that many men, you’ll no survive.”

Arcadia could feel his confidence in his statement, suggesting that she, being a woman, could do nothing to save Jamie. Quelling her rising anger, Arcadia narrowed her eyes at Dougal.

“You’ve seen me take down little, unskilled men, with little effort. Try to imagine what I would look like when I actually try.” She paused, taking in his shocked expression. “Now, get the fuck out of my way,” she bit.

Slowly, Dougal lowered his hand. He continued to stare at her with a mixture of distrust, anger, and shock. He scowled and cleared his throat. “You are a guest of the Mackenzie. You listen to me while we are on the road. You are not going.”

Arcadia sighed gently. She lowered her hands from the saddle and turned her body towards him. “I do not recognize you as a commanding officer. I recognize Colum. I don’t trust you. You don’t trust me. That much is clear.” She paused as she tried to calm herself down, “I go, I could die, then I’m out of your hands.”

Dougal bristled, “I am the war chief! When Colum is not around, I am in command!”

“I don’t care,” Arcadia replied, folding her arms across her chest.

Before Dougal could reply, Murtagh stepped forward, intervening between them, “Och, that’s enough!” he said sharply. He turned his attention fully to Dougal, “Jamie is my kin. I’m going with her to get him.”

“You’ll do no such thing,” Dougal huffed, while Arcadia shook her head at the same time.

“You’ll only slow me down,” she stated.

“You don’t know the way to Fort William. Heading east will only get you so far.” Murtagh explained, standing straight and crossing his arms. Facing Dougal again, he continued, “I swore an oath to protect him, and I intend to keep it.”

Dougal pursed his lips in anger, eyes sweeping between Arcadia and Murtagh, before he finally looked down and shook his head resignedly. “You’re mad. Be aware that you may not be welcomed back at Leoch if you do this.”

“Fine,” Arcadia interjected, despite knowing that Dougal had been speaking to Murtagh specifically.

Both men glanced at her in irritation. Now that Dougal was out of the way physically, Arcadia moved swiftly to climb up onto her horse. Once she was settled, she checked the side to make sure her pack was secure, and when she was finished, he saw Murtagh, Angus, and Rupert on their horses. She looked at them in confusion, but the grim determination on their faces was explanation enough. Without another word, Arcadia glanced at Murtagh. He had been the one in the inn to tell her where Fort William was, but she had a feeling that he hadn’t anticipated that she would do something like this. Clicking her tongue, she guided her horse in the right direction, urging him forward along with the other men.

******

The day and night journey had been grueling. Arcadia could feel the strain on her horse, and whenever they took a moment to rest them, she went to each one and gave them some rejuvenating energy. The men gazed at her in awe, but said nothing, since they were on the road at a faster rate.

The moon was still fairly high in the sky by the time they reached the Fort. Arcadia could hear a loud sound coming up from the other side of the fort, but she had no time or patience to be curious. The fort was much larger than Castle Leoch, or any building that she had seen in this time. It was ominous looking, with it’s stone walls and fortifications. Arcadia surveyed it as they had come to a stop on the crest of a hill. They all sat in silence, waiting.

Gently activating her implant, Arcadia focused on the building itself. Slowly, bits of the schematics of its structure became clear to her.

Turning her head slightly to Murtagh, she asked, “Where is Randall’s quarters?”

He looked at her in confusion, “North wall, why?”

Arcadia pressed her lips into a hard line, “Because I bet you any money that’s where he has Jamie.”

“Why would you think that?” Rupert asked, genuinely confused.

“Because men like Randall like to play with their toys.”

The men looked at one another, a collective chill running down their spines. Murtagh glanced back at Arcadia with a serious look. She knew that he had questions burning on the tip of his tongue, but he knew better than to ask, especially now.

“So, what’s the plan?” Angus asked.

*******

Arcadia had left her skirts and jacket back with her horse, not wanting the restriction of the fabrics, much to the discomfort of the men. She pulled her hair back and tied it with a cord, and took out her knife and some sleeper darts, and placed them in the inner pockets of her own jacket. Then, after a moment’s hesitation, she took out the other knife from inside her pack. It was the one Cane had given her a very long time ago, his excuse that two knives were better than one.

She shivered as they crept along the tall walls of the fort, moving silently, Arcadia in the front, despite the protests of the men. Coming up to a corner, she slowed down and peered carefully around it. There were two men standing guard at the side entrance. Turning back, Arcadia held up two fingers, but then took out one dart. The men watched closely as she took off the protective cap and placed the dart deftly between her fingers. Arcadia stood up straight, and taking a breath, stepped out from the wall and quickly rounded the corner. She flicked her wrist towards one of the guards with a precise movement, and the dart landing on its intended target. The effect was instantaneous for the one guard, who simply collapsed where he stood. The other guard took a few seconds to notice what had happened, but it was enough time for Arcadia to run up and place her knife at his throat, catching him completely off guard.

Giving him a quick head shake, he made no noise, but moved with Arcadia as she brought him through the entrance. A shuffle of footsteps came in behind her. Murtagh moved swiftly to stand beside Arcadia and the guard.

“Where is the Scotsman?” he asked gruffly.

“I don’t know who you mean,” the man replied, his voice breathy and panicked.

Arcadia could feel his heat rate spike as adrenaline filled his system, but also as the fear started to take over. She pulled out the other knife from the pocket from the back of her jacket and placed it directly under the man’s groin.

The man’s eyes bulged widely, threatening to pop out of his skull.

“My friend here isna bit pleased with yer answer,” Murtagh grinned wickedly.

“Pray, I don’t know!”

“Yes you do,” Arcadia whispered, her voice cutting in the air like ice.

The man gulped as his eyes locked with hers. She narrowed them, and then pressed the blade a bit further up towards his groin. He gasped and closed his eyes.

“The commander’s office. North tower.”

A chill ran down Arcadia’s spine. Although she knew that Randall’s behaviour was predictable, it didn’t mean that Arcadia wanted to be right. She had hoped that she was wrong, and that Jamie was just in a cell, down in the jailed area, rather than in the clutches of a man like that.

“Thank you,” Murtagh said playfully, before butting the man on the head.

Without a backwards glance, Arcadia took off toward the north tower, following the guide in her eye. She turned another corner, and climbed some stairs, keeping low and silent. Her footsteps where silent as well, despite the older wood she was walking on. She had always been a light stepper, quick and nimble, giving her every possible advantage. She slowed as she reached the top, hearing the heart beat of another guard. She peered around the corner and took stock. He was younger, maybe slightly younger than she, based on his health. Waiting until he turned away from her, she moved in behind him and injected him with a sleeper dart. Catching him before he fell, she lowered him to the ground carefully, before taking his gun and tossing it over the side of the wall.

She paused to look around, making sure no one else saw her, before moving on. Arcadia quickly made her way to the north tower without interference. Once she was there, gazed around her, letting her guide show her the tower. She saw that there was an entrance just below her, but based on the noise coming from the stairway, she couldn’t go down that way. Going over to the wall, she glanced down. The implant told her that the window was only a few meters down. She decided that it was the only course of action that she could take, and began to form a plan. Glancing down, she looked for something to help. She spotted a rope, and in a light-bulb moment, she picked it up, and quickly tied it around a post along the wall. Once it was secure, she tossed the rest of the rope over the edge. She hopped up on the ledge, and grabbed the rope with a strong hand.

In the narrow focus, she hadn’t been paying attention, and when a crash of a wave made her jolt, she glanced behind her shoulder. Her eyes widened and her jaw went slack. There was so much water, churning and flowing beneath her, and farther out, that she almost stopped breathing.

A loud shout caught her attention, though, and Arcadia instantly recognized it as Jamie’s. She focused back on her task, and made her way down the wall, shuffling her feet carefully but swiftly down towards the window. As she reached the landing, she could hear scuffling, and something thudded to the floor. Leaning fully into the window sill, she released the rope and pulled out her knife. She slowly opened the window shutters, and assessed what was happening.

Jamie’s face was bloody, his hands bound behind him, and his face contorted in a grimace. His shirt was ripped, and his scars were exposed. Some of them had been sliced, and were bleeding freely. Arcadia could feel his panic as Randall struggled with him. She saw that Randal had a large knife in his hands, having already cut Jamie a few times. He had a sadistic smile on his face, as if he was pleased with how Jamie was struggling and secluded. With a quick movement, he slammed Jamie into the desk, who knocked his head painfully off it.

Opening it more fully, she concealed her knife behind her back again.

“Get the fuck away from him,” she growled menacingly.

Randall’s head whipped around to face her, his face pure shock. He took a few seconds to register what was happening.

“Hark?” Jamie practically whimpered, his head still a bit woozy from hitting it off the desk.

“Good God. What have we here?” Randall asked, almost amused.

“Get the fuck away from him,” Arcadia repeated, as she jumped down from the window sill into the office.

“What a fowl mouthed scold,” Randall’s lip twitched. “How did you get up here, and what on earth are you wearing?”

Arcadia stared at him for a moment, before flicking her eyes to Jamie. She assessed him quickly, finding that his head was fine, no concussion, and the rest of his body was intact and healthy, save for a few bruises on his ribs and face. Rage seethed beneath her skin as she glared daggers back at Randall.

“Back. The. Fuck. Off.” She spat.

“Oh, I think not. I was rather looking forward to tonight’s entertainment. And I just suppose now, we’ll have an audience.” Randall stated, leaning over towards Jamie at the last part.

Jamie squirmed under the man, wanting to get away from him as much as possible, but unable to move with Randall’s hand on his hands, and a knife held at his throat.

“Let him go, or I’ll break you.” Arcadia threatened.

Both of Randall’s eyebrows shot up, and he _giggled_, “Indeed? Pray tell, how are you going to do that, with no weapons on your person?” Randall asked, mockingly.

It was Jamie who snorted in amusement, knowing full well what Arcadia could do. This seemed, however, to annoy Randall immensely.

“What, am I missing something?” Randall asked, lifting Jamie up off the desk and wrapping his arm around his waist, while keeping the blade tight to his throat. “Is this girl here to rescue you?” Randall scoffed in amusement.

Meanwhile, Arcadia slowly took a few steps forward, looking at Randall to assess him, and to pinpoint what she needed to target before she made her move. Once she was satisfied with her plan of action, she settled her feet and placed her hands behind her back, grasping both of her knife lightly. She looked at Randall with a dangerous calm.

‘’Let him go, or I’ll break you. I won’t ask again,” Arcadia repeated.

“Your accent is quite interesting, I must say, although you did a marvelous job pretending a few days ago.” Randall continued, completely ignoring Arcadia and changing the subject. “I had a feeling about you the moment I saw you. Something in your eyes as you spoke with me. As if you knew something about me that I barely know myself,” he mused, slightly lowering the dagger from Jamie’s throat.

Arcadia took a few more, purposeful steps forward.

“I will slit his throat, I swear to God,” Randall said, all manner of mocking and joking dropped the moment he saw her move. He moved the dagger back up, pressing it hard against Jamie’s throat.

Arcadia nodded. Pursing her lips, she took a deep breath, “But while that might be tempting in this situation, you won’t.”

Randall raised a brow, “Oh?”

Arcadia nodded again, “There’s no pleasure in fucking a dead man, is there?”

Randall’s eyes widened slightly, and his heart rate spike erratically, “What the devil are you talking about?”

Tilting her head, Arcadia continued to look at Randall. “Your heart is beating past. You’re enjoying this,” she nodded towards them, “having a warm body against yours, one that you want.” She paused for effect, “I’ve seen it before.”

Randall licked his lips uncomfortably, suddenly a bit nervous. Arcadia was still waiting for her moment. But his nervousness disappeared as quickly as it came, and he smirked.

“Perhaps you’d wish to join? Seeing how you also want him,” Randall stated, turning his body a bit to the side, no longer hidden completely behind Jamie.

Without answering, Arcadia whipped her left hand and threw her knife at Randall. It had been such a quick move that Randall didn’t have time to react. The knife embedded itself into his exposed shoulder, severing the nerves in his arm, thus releasing the knife that was held at Jamie’s throat. Running forward, Arcadia moved Jamie out of the way quickly and carefully, before turning back to Randall and punching him square in the face. A loud crunching noise sounded in the air, and a muffle grunt escaped Randall as he fell to the ground. He wasn’t unconscious yet. Arcadia hadn’t intended for that to happen. She wanted to make him suffer a bit before that could happen.

Walking over his prone, groaning body, Arcadia leaned over and yanked her knife out of his shoulder. He cried out in pain, and grasped at the wound with his other hand. She wiped her knife on his clothes before tucking it back into its pocket, all the while staring down at him.

“You didn’t let go,” she said flatly, her voice seemingly annoyed with his stupidity.

Randall glared at her with pain filled eyes.

“Now, I break you.” 

His eyes widened slightly, but he quickly howled in pain as Arcadia raised her foot and brought it down on his knee. There was a loud pop, and Arcadia checked off ‘broken knee cap’ off her mental list. She landed a kick to his ribs, fracturing two of them severely. She stepped hard on his already dead hand, crushing a few bones in it.

Every punch or kick she placed on Randall’s body was a proxy for everything she ever wanted to do to her own attackers. Strategically placed so that he would survive, but would need weeks, if not months of recovery time. Pausing finally, she took a deep breath in, having not even broken a sweat. Randall was laying on the ground, whimpering in pain, but still miraculously conscious. Arcadia turned to Jamie, who’s eyes were flitting between her and Randall, open wide. Suddenly self conscious, Arcadia glanced down at his hands and took out her knife to cut the cord binding them. Once they were off, Jamie rubbed at them gently. Taking a step forward, slowly, she raised a bloodied hand towards him. She glanced up to make sure it was okay, that he wasn’t afraid of her. It was a dreadful feeling, to suddenly be afraid of someone being afraid of their touch. She didn’t want Jamie to think lesser of her, or to think that she was a monster.

But thankfully, what she saw in Jamie’s eyes was no revulsion or fear. Although she couldn’t quite place it, he didn’t seem to recoil away from her. Keeping her gaze, he raised his hand towards her open one, and grasped it. Arcadia let out a small breath, not realizing that she had been holding it. She fed him some energy, healing the cuts and bruises on his body. He sighed in relief as her Stitching washed over him.

“What do you want to do with him?” Arcadia whispered.

She knew what it meant to have say over what happened to your attacker, your abuser. She instantly thought back to fourteen bullets, but quickly shook away the memory.

Jamie looked at her questioningly, “What do you mean?”

She shifted her feet slightly, “Kill him, or leave him?”

Jamie’s eyes widened once more, but then his expression shifted into something much more pensive. Arcadia waited, monitoring the man on the floor. He was going to lose consciousness soon, and Arcadia felt the need to keep him awake for whatever Jamie decided to do with him.

Jamie slowly shook his head, “I canna kill a helpless man.” He spoke with a resigned resolution, his shoulders slumping. “And I don’t want you to condemn your soul either,” he said pointedly.

Arcadia huffed a mirthless laugh, “Too late.” But she understood. Killing a helpless person was stooping down to a level that even Arcadia never crossed, and didn’t want to. She only wanted to give Jamie the option to seek his own vengeance.

Glancing behind her, her lips quirked just a bit. “He’s about to pass out. Want to do the honors?” she asked, looking back at Jamie.

Jamie’s attention shifted to Randall on the ground, and he nodded, “I think I will.”

Standing up on sturdy legs, Jamie stood over Randall, who whimpered a bit as he did so. Jamie didn’t smile or smirk. Rather, other than a slight pursing of his lips in anger, his face betrayed nothing. He swung his arm heavily, connecting his fist with Randall’s face, knocking the man painfully unconscious. Arcadia assessed that Jamie had broken his jaw, and cracked a few teeth, and she couldn’t help but be impressed.

Suddenly, there was a loud booming sound that rattled in the room.

“And that’s our cue,” Arcadia said, reaching to grab Jamie’s hand, and pulled him through the door of the office to make their escape.


	19. Suffering, Haunting, and the Past Coming Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens very quickly for both Jamie and Arcadia. Fort William behind them only in its physical presence but not the memories.   
And an unexpected visitor shows up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, sorry, sorry. 
> 
> Here is the next chapter. A lot happens, so please let me know if something feels like its missing. I want the story to start moving along. 
> 
> Anywhooooooo, feedback and kudos are much appreciated! 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

The rest of the night was a blur. Adrenaline coursed through Arcadia’s veins like wild fire. All she could concentrate on was the objective of saving Jamie and getting out of the fort. As per the plan, once the distraction had been done, the men were to meet up at a small ridge, that had a nook between two rocks that would provide them cover from the elements, and hidden from any pursuit. Arcadia’s horse had been strapped to a tree, waiting for her return with Jamie, and they had made it to the horse quickly.

By the time Arcadia brought the horse to a halt, she could make out the meeting place just barely. The sun was slowly rising, casting shadows over the land, but providing enough light to guide them. Arcadia hadn’t even taken the time to Stitch Jamie before they left, so when he slumped against her back, she panicked slightly.

“Jamie!” She threw an arm awkwardly around her back to touch his shoulder, shifting slightly to turn her head to look at him.

He was pale and almost passed out, but his eyes fluttered slightly, showing that he was holding on. She sent a pulse of energy into him, and she watched as his eyes opened and were a bit more awake.

“’m fine, Hark,” Jamie murmured, his speech slightly slurred.

“We’re almost there, I promise,” Arcadia reassured, continuing to hold him awkwardly.

*****

Murtagh, Angus, and Rupert were thoroughly relieved when they saw Arcadia and Jamie come into the covered area. They had set the distraction back at the fort and then took off, as per the plan. Murtagh hadn’t been thrilled about it, but oddly trusted Arcadia to pull through. He had seen the determination in her eyes that made him believe that she would do anything to save him from Randall’s clutches.

The men helped Jamie down from the horse, and set him down against a log. Rupert took off his jacket and wrapped it around Jamie’s shoulders gently. Jamie jumped a bit at the actions, and Arcadia watched carefully. She knew that type of reaction, but she didn’t say anything yet. She made her way over to him, kneeling down in front of him, and waited for his eyes to connect with hers.

He slowly looked at her, his eyes fuzzy and tired. He desperately wanted to rest, but his back was sore, his head hurt. Jamie waited for the moment that Arcadia would heal him, or at least reassure him that he was going to be okay, but when she didn’t say anything right away, he forced himself to focus a bit more.

Once Arcadia saw Jamie focus, she spoke, “May I Stitch you, Jamie?” she asked gently, quietly.

Jamie looked at her confused for a moment, but nodded, unsure as to why she was asking when she normally just did it.

“You can tell me to stop at any point,” she paused as his face became more confused, “do you understand?”

Jamie blinked a couple of times, before nodding, even though he didn’t fully understand what she meant.

With a sigh, Arcadia raised her hand and went to place it on his arm, making sure to move slowly. The closer she got, the tenser Jamie got. Jamie didn’t understand why he felt this way, because he knew that Arcadia was only wanting to heal him. But a part of him couldn’t fathom her touching him. He hadn’t liked it when Rupert had put the jacket on, but he just assumed it had been the pain in his back.

Arcadia stilled, waiting for Jamie to relax. She could hear his heart rate slow down again the more time she took to let him relax. Jamie watched in confusion as it took several minutes for Arcadia to actually place her hand on him. Once she did, Jamie gasped. He could feel his heart racing, and he flinched away from her, moving his hand slightly out of her grasp. Arcadia simply released his hand, holding up away from him, and waited. It took a while for Jamie to slow his breathing down. He was trembling. He blinked, and a flash of Randall come across his vision, and he gasped again. He tried to control his breathing, but it seemed that his body was not responding. 

Arcadia kept her face blank as she waited for Jamie to feel more at ease, but she now that she had the chance to do a full analysis, she could tell what had happened, or at least, what had been attempted. She kept her own mind in check, despite the feelings and memories that came to the surface. She bit the inside of her cheeks to keep herself in the present, and focus on Jamie.

“Feel the ground beneath you, Jamie.” She spoke low and gently, trying to bring Jamie back from whatever memory he was having.

Jamie gasped again, his eyes closed tightly.

“Feel the air around you,”

Jamie took a deep breath in order to slow it down.

Arcadia kept her eyes on him, watching for the changes in his heart rate. It was erratic, so she continued. She was using a similar technique the Dannick had used on her the second time she had been taken.

“Come back to this present. This moment.”

Jamie slowly blinked his eyes open, but Arcadia could tell that he was unseeing.

“Breathe in the cold air, let it fill your lungs,”

A deep breath.

“See the sky, the openness and clarity,”

Jamie glanced up, taking in the orders almost unconsciously.

“Bring yourself back to this present.” Arcadia spoke firmly that time, hearing Jamie’s heart rate slowing back to normal. 

After a moment, Jamie looked back down at Arcadia, who hadn’t moved an inch. He blinked, his eyes full of pain at the remembrance of what had happened. What had almost happened.

Arcadia kept her eyes locked with his as she spoke again, “May I Stitch you, Jamie? Or do you need to wait?”

Jamie took a long moment to decide, finally understanding why she had asked him before. Letting out a shuddering breath, he nodded, “Yes, you may, Arcadia.”

Arcadia slowly nodded, and again, slowly placed her hand on his arm. He flinched again, but he didn’t move away. Thankfully, Arcadia didn’t need to move her hand too much in order to Stitch him thoroughly. She began to Stitch him back together, easing his pain and healing his split scars, and getting rid of the pain he had been ignoring completely.

Jamie’s eyes widened slightly, and his body began to tremble. Arcadia stopped, lifting her hand from his body the second she was done Stitching him. She turned to Murtagh, who had witnessed the entire thing, and nodded her head towards the horses. Thankfully, she didn’t need to explain, as Murtagh nodded in return and made his way towards the two other men, taking them away from Jamie and Arcadia to the horses.

Once they were alone, Arcadia waited patiently, keeping her face clear but making sure that Jamie knew she was there.

Jamie breathed several shaky breaths as he took in the situation. His mind was clear now, his energy was mostly back due to Arcadia’s healing, but now he was left with the reality of what had transpired at Fort William. Gulping, Jamie broke away from Arcadia’s gaze.

“Nothing happened,” Jamie said weakly, as if he was trying to convince himself of the lie.

Arcadia didn’t react, but remained where she was, kneeling in front of Jamie.

“Nothing happened,” Jamie repeated, although it was a bit more desperate.

Arcadia sighed, “I know.”

Jamie’s jaw clenched, and whipped his head around to look at her once more. “It didn’t.”

Arcadia’s words matched Jamie’s in tone, “I know.”

Jamie was silent for a moment, and then he huffed out a forceful breath, “Why did you offer that to me? To kill him?” he asked suddenly, changing the topic slightly.

Arcadia glanced around her for a moment, breaking contact with Jamie for the first time. She took a deep breath.

“Because the first time that happened to me, he almost broke me. When I had the chance, I took it. I killed him. I unloaded 14 bullets into his body,” she paused, slightly worried about the information she had just given Jamie. But she pressed on, “Although it didn’t change what he did to me, at least I know that I was the one who put him into the ground forever. That I was reason he couldn’t hurt anyone else.”

Jamie was silent at her confession. She looked back at him with hard eyes, “His face haunts my dreams, Jamie. Everything he did, I remember perfectly. And the next one, and the next one, and the one after that. It doesn’t go away, just fades into the back ground.” She shook her head, “Two of the four I put in the ground, the other two were done Dannick and Cane.

I offered because… You needed to have the choice. Men like Randall don’t see what is wrong with what they want and how they get it. I offered, because your choice was taken away the second you were arrested.” Arcadia explained, finishing with a somewhat weaker voice than when she started.

Jamie looked at Arcadia with hard eyes, seemingly unwilling to accept what she was saying, because if he did, that would mean that he would have to accept what happened to him. To acknowledge it. Licking his dry lips, he leaned forward a bit.

“He… he didn’t…” he began, but the words were caught in his throat.

This time however, Arcadia interrupted gently, “but he did enough to make a difference.”

Jamie’s lip wavered and he lowered his head. Tears sprang to his eyes so quickly that they caught him off guard. A horrible feeling swelled in his chest, and before he realized what was happening, a sob escaped his mouth. He blindly reached out towards Arcadia, who gently took his hand in hers, holding onto it as tightly as Jamie. It hurt slightly, but she could handle it. But she didn’t move from her spot, nor did she move her hand more than just her thumb rubbing the back of his hand. She knew that he would know what he could handle in that moment, and if it was simply holding her hand, that’s what she would do.

The sun was rising in the sky, giving off a warm glow in the frigid air. Fog hung around the edges of the tall cliff face above their heads. Birds flew around, and there was a faint trickling of a spring nearby. The horses shuffled their feet every so often, breaking the natural silence.

*****

Later that day, they rode the horses almost all the way back to where the Mackenzie rent troupe had been. Angus and Rupert had ridden ahead to see whether or not they had moved on to the next village. By nightfall, they returned and they had brought supplies with them. The troupe had continued onto the next village, about a day’s ride from where they currently were located, and so they decided to make camp.

Arcadia had chosen to forgo sleep for the time being. Experience told her that although Jamie acknowledged what happened, it will still haunt him, and it was only the beginning. She thanked whatever god they believed in in this time that Randall had only taken things so far, but she also cursed that same god for allowing such a man to exist. She was sharpening her knife, which she had cleaned thoroughly once they had the time, when Jamie’s shout echoed around their camp.

Arcadia stood quickly, and made her way over to Jamie. He had set up his bedding slightly away from everyone. She knelt down beside him, taking care not to touch him.

“Jamie,” she said loudly, trying to wake him up.

Jamie tossed a bit, his body shaking.

“Jamie,” she said again, with more force.

His eyes blinked open blearily, but Arcadia could tell that he was out of the dream. Just the remnant of it lingering in his mind.

“Arcadia…” he whispered.

“I’m here,” she said, reassuring him by shifting a touch closer.

He reached his hand out to her, and she grasped it tightly.

Jamie looked up at her, his eyes reflecting the pain and fear he felt, “Will this always be like this?”

Arcadia gave him a slight grimace, showing her empathy, “I don’t know…”

Gulping slightly, Jamie nodded. His face scrunched, his brow creasing in the middle. He hummed quietly, and then settled back down, still holding onto Arcadia’s hand. She decided in that moment to lie down next to him, keeping hold of his hand, and pillowed her head with her other arm. Looking up at the sky, she watched the stars flash in space, twinkling clear and brighter than she ever though possible. After a few moments, she whispered into the night, not knowing whether or not Jamie was still awake.

“I hope it won’t be.”

*****

It was a slow morning. The men were tired, and since it seems that there was no one on their trail hunting them down, they decided to take their time heading to meet up with the others. They ate breakfast, spoke little, and washed by a small stream.

Arcadia was standing, strapping her pack to her saddle, glancing at Jamie every so often out of the corner of her eye. He seemed all right for the moment. He was talking in Gaelic to Murtagh, and he even smiled a bit, which Arcadia took as a good sign. She had a feeling that he would heal differently than she did, mainly because he had people in his corner that cared for him, and they weren’t taking him for granted. Her lip twitched upward, which caused Arcadia quickly turned into a frown with a rough shake of her head.

Patting her horse’s neck, she walked over to the fire, to stamp out the dying embers. She had a skirt on again, Rupert brought it back with them, “For the cold,” he explained with an awkward smile. Arcadia had taken it, almost grateful for the warmth it provided. She adjusted her skirts as she stepped on the coals, when an odd crackling noise filled her ears.

She paused, lifting her foot slightly. It hadn’t been the embers, they made a softer crunch, with a wispiness as the ashes began to float around.

Twisting her head slightly, she listened for the sound again. She closed her eyes and waited.

_Crackle_.

Her heart stopped beating.

Her eyes sprang open, and her mouth dropped open a bit.

_Crackle. Static._

“_Hark_?”

Arcadia gasped.

It couldn’t be.

_Static. “Arcadia?”_

Slowly, Arcadia lifted her hand to the left side of her neck, just below her ear. She pressed the area gently, feeling the slightly raised area with practiced fingers.

“Cane?” she whispered, her voice not working properly and her words came out rough.

“Hark! Are you there?” Cane’s voice crackled into her communicator.

Arcadia’s eyes bugged out of her skull, her breaths were coming in short and quick.

“Cane?” she said again.

“Yes! It’s me!” there was a static filled pause, “I can’t believe you’re alive!” His voice sounded relieved, disbelieving, and in shock, but overwhelmingly relieved.

Arcadia could feel her body shaking. Her hand lowered to her side and she slumped a bit, causing herself to stumble.

Jamie, who had just happened to look over at her, saw her stumble and he took a step forward, “You all right, Hark?” he called.

Arcadia didn’t hear him. She was solely focused on Cane’s voice.

“Am I really hearing you?” Arcadia asked cautiously.

“Yes. I’m… well, I don’t know where I am. But it’s… green…” Cane trailed off. Arcadia could feel the awe in his voice.

“Where?” she asked, her voice regaining its strength.

Jamie paused as he got closer, confused as to whom she was talking, or in what language. He vaguely remembered her speaking something similar when they first found her, but she hadn’t spoken it since.

“I don’t know. I’m in a field I think,” Cane began.

Shaking her head, Arcadia interrupted, “Beacon.”

The implant in her eye flared to life as it sensed another implant within the vicinity. Arcadia gasped. Cane was close, within running distance.

“Arcadia, I see you.” Cane asked, his voice betraying his excitement.

“I see you too,” Arcadia confirmed.

Before she knew what she was doing, her feet were moving. She vaguely heard Jamie call out to her, but in that moment, she had only one goal in mind. Find Cane. Prove that he was actually here. She walked briskly in the direction of the beacon, untying her skirt at the same time and dropping it down to the ground. She picked up the pace, working up to a full out run. She heard shouts in the background, but she ignored it.

She pushed herself, running at her fastest, which was particularly fast. Breathing in, breathing out, in quick succession. She zipped through trees, jumped over fallen logs, and kept her footing as best as she could. Her legs burned, her lungs felt like they were on fire, and it wasn’t because she was tired or strained. No. She was keeping herself from crying. Keeping herself from allowing emotions to cloud her just yet until she actually saw Cane.

She didn’t know how long she ran, only that it seemed like infinity. Her chest burned, and her mind was reeling.

As she ran out of the trees into a large clearing, two things happened.

One, she recognized the area. It had been the same place where she had appeared. Where she had been dropped.

Two, a man stood in the distance, near the same area.

She stopped short, her feet skidding a bit on the somewhat still wet grass. She gasped her breath, as she watched the man turn around.

“Arcadia,” Cane said over the comm.

She sucked in a ragged breath, “Cane,” she said breathlessly.

Cane began to run in the distance towards Arcadia. She started to move her feet again, picking up the pace quickly. They were both running at full speed towards each other across the field. As he drew closer, Arcadia could see distinctive features. It didn’t look like Cane had changed at all, but the life of a Tactician/cyborg rarely did.

He was 5 feet away.

4 feet.

3 feet.

2.

1.

Arcadia slammed into Cane, her arms wrapping out his hulking frame, all the air pushed out of her lungs painfully.

“Arcadia!” Cane said, his voice hoarse with emotion as he held her tightly against him.

This was an unheard of moment for the two of them. They didn’t hug. They didn’t show their emotions to each other. Not after Dannick. But in that moment, Arcadia couldn’t help but gasp and cry out as she held onto Cane.

“I found you,” Cane said into her hair, “I found you.” He repeated it like a mantra, not loosening his grip.

After a minute, Arcadia pulled back gently. She turned her head to look at Cane. She took his appearance, and his face looked haggard and tired. There was a new scar on his brow. She guessed it was from a stray bullet, based on the thickness. She placed a hand on his face, holding him there.

“Jasper,” she said in utter disbelief, “You’re alive!”

“You’re alive,” Cane replied, a small smile twitched on his lips. There were tears in his eyes.

Arcadia felt her own tears falling down her face. She shook her head as she looked at him, “How?”

Cane sighed, “Long story.”

Arcadia nodded slowly. She released one hand from around his shoulders and brought it down in front of her. She held it up for Cane, who had also released her a bit, and he raised his own hand to grasp hers. They clasped hands tightly, their implants syncing up after so long apart.

“Weary battles,” Arcadia began.

“Arduous and long,” Cane said.

“Separated across the dust, but together in strength,” they spoke together.

It was the standard greetings between soldiers, when they had been thought lost or dead. Arcadia couldn’t believe that Cane was in front of her. She blinked a few times, just to see if he would disappear. But when he didn’t, she smiled.

Cane blinked in confusion, but slowly returned the smile. They held hands for a few seconds longer, before releasing each other completely. They had somehow ended up kneeling on the ground, Arcadia’s legs bracketing Cane’s just a bit.

Taking a deep breath, Arcadia spoke. “How did you get here?”

Cane looked down and activated his implant. Now that they were synced, it didn’t take much for Cane to show Arcadia everything that had happened since she disappeared. He glanced at her before pressing the button, his face set in a hard grimace, “I’m not going to lie. It’s... it's hard to accept.”

Arcadia instantly stiffened, her smile fading completely. “Show me.”

Cane pressed the button, and his memory bank flashed across Arcadia’s eyes. She gasped slightly at the sheer amount of memories, everything from the moment Cane came to on the battlefield to the moment he saw her. It was bloody, brutal, and downright confusing.

After it was over, Arcadia stared blankly ahead. Her brow furrowed in confusion, “They lied?”

Cane sighed heavily, “Yes. All of it.”

She looked up at Cane in anger, “So… He might be…”

Cane nodded slowly, his jaw tight, “Yes. He is.”

Arcadia began shaking, quaking with anger. Her lips wobbled and hot, salty tears scorched trails down her face. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to find her centre, but it was difficult, especially with this news. She stood and stepped a few paces from Cane, looking into the distance. Black dots caught her eye in the distance, and in the back of her mind she knew it was Jamie and the others. But she was seeing red.

They had lied. They had _lied_. Arcadia could feel the anger coursing through her veins, making her body feel horrible and constricted. She kicked at the ground, wanting to do more than just shift tufts of grass. She ran her hands through her hair shakily, gasping at the strands painfully. She screamed angrily. Her chest was heaving, but she couldn’t stop the feelings from taking over. She screamed again, kicking the ground. Suddenly, there was a body in front of her, and she looked up. Cane was standing in front of her now, the same anger in his eyes, but sympathy and sadness as well.

He stepped back a step, shifted his body, and struck a pose that Arcadia knew well.

“Three.” He said simply.

Arcadia zeroed in on his body and aimed a swift kick at his abdomen. It was like kicking a steel wall. It jarred her foot, but didn’t break anything. She cried out at the pain, but it centered her.

“Two.”

She kicked out with her other foot, crying out angrily again.

“One.”

She gave him a push kick, making him stumble back a few paces. She was breathing hard, but she was feeling better, even if it was only fractionally so.

Arcadia could see Jamie’s form now, the distance closing in fast since the men were on horses. Taking a deep breath, Arcadia settled her anger, letting simmer just below the surface. She turned to Cane.

“We are in 17th century Scotland. I gave you my updated language bank. Select it now.” Arcadia ordered, before she turned back to start walking towards Jamie.

“17th? Holy shit,” Cane muttered.

Holy shit was right. Arcadia hated the situation was put in. She didn’t know what to think, not with the bombshell Cane just dropped. She merely waited for Jamie and the others to show up.

She needed to decide what to tell him. A lie? Or the truth of who she truly is, and where, or rather or when, she is from.

And that, loathe it as she might, she has to go back.

Because Dannick was alive. And her government had fucking lied to her.


	20. An Impossible Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arcadia faces Jamie as he and the other men gallop towards her. Cane is standing behind her, providing a silent support. She doesn't know what she will say, doesn't know how Jamie will react if she says what she thinks she is going to say. 
> 
> But Dannick is on the line. 
> 
> She needs to figure it out quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update. Life gets in the way, and writing kinda gets pushed to the side. Sorry again! 
> 
> And at this moment, I'm not going to say that I will try to update sooner from now on, because I'm dealing with a few family things right now. So, I will post new material when I can, hopefully within a two week time frame. Please be patient, and thank you for those who have bookmarked my work! It's lovely to have people want to read this as soon as I post a new chapter! It's quite exhilarating! 
> 
> Thank you kindly,   
and as always, feedback is appreciated, whether in kudos or comment form! 
> 
> :)

Panic flashed through Jamie’s chest as he saw Arcadia standing in the distant near a man. They looked like they were talking, but then suddenly, over the loud noise of the horses galloping, he heard Arcadia scream out in pain. He quickened his horses pace, wanting to get over the small ridge to protect her.

“Arcadia!” He yelled, once he was closer.

She was now standing facing him and the other men, a look mixed with anger and sadness on her face. Jamie slowed his horse to a halt, shifted his leg over the side and jumped down. He ran over to her, sword drawn, ready to fight and protect.

Arcadia raised a hand towards him, “Jamie. Put it away. He’s a friend.” Her voice was dull, cold, similar to how she spoke when they first found her. It sent a chill down his spine.

He eyed the man standing a bit behind Arcadia. He was tall and muscular, but something about him was off, something that didn’t seem all together normal. Much like Arcadia. Jamie shifted his eyes to Arcadia, silently asking so many questions, but unable to voice them.

Arcadia swallowed hard, and then took a deep breath. Her eyes were cloudy, as if she was tortured with something that she wasn’t saying.

“Arcadia,” Jamie started, taking a step forward to her, his hand outstretched for her arm.

She stood still as he placed it gently on her arm, just lightly enough to reassure her of his presence, but he knew not to push it too far. One thing that did not escape Jamie’s notice was how the man, the supposed friend, tensed as he touched Arcadia, but then stared with growing confusion and curiosity.

Jamie ignored him, and looked back at Arcadia, “Arcadia,” he repeated, “I know there are thing ye do not wish to tell me,” he paused, taking a quick breath, “But I do ask you of one thing. Honesty. When you do tell me something, let it be the truth.”

Arcadia looked at Jamie, almost fearfully. “I don’t think you’ll believe me,” she whispered.

“I can try,” he responded, taking another small step forward, bringing himself to stand closer to her.

Arcadia visibly relaxed, her shoulders losing their tension a bit. She took another deep breath, looking down at Jamie’s chest. She noticed that he was now wearing his own jacket, the spare he had in his pack from before Fort William. Angus and Rupert must have grabbed it as well as her skirt. Mentally shaking herself of the off-topic thoughts, she returned her gaze to Jamie. He looked at her expectantly, but patiently, waiting for Arcadia to speak.

“I am from the future.” She said plainly, although Jamie caught a hint of a tremble in her voice. “I was born in the year 3282. That's over a thousand years from now. I’m a Stitcher in the fourth largest war this world has seen.”

Jamie stared at her, listening, but not fully understanding what she was saying. _The future?_ He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion. He remained silent, however. He had no words.

Arcadia continued, “I know it’s a lot to hear, to even process,” she paused, watching Jamie as his mind reeled. “Cane is part of my team, in the future.” She paused again, as if she didn’t want to say anything more. Steeling herself, she looked directly into Jamie’s eyes. “He’s here to take me back.”

Jamie snapped to attention at that, his eyes widening slightly before furrowing in confusion again. “Back?”

Arcadia clenched her teeth, to the point of her jaw aching painfully. “Yes.”

Jamie blinked, and tightened his hold on Arcadia’s arm. “What do you mean? How?”

Arcadia turned her head a bit towards Cane, who nodded once at her. She spoke quietly, “There are others like me, with different skills. The one who sent me here is helping Cane get me back.”

“Sent you here?”

“There are areas of the world that are naturally… magical?’’ Arcadia paused, not fully understanding the information she received from Cane about the Elemental, but doing her best to explain. “The stones over there,” she gestured behind her, where she and Cane had appeared, “are like doorways into different times, places,” she swallowed, “The person who sent me had the capability to use that source of power to push me through time to this place. To you.” Arcadia added hastily, lifting her arm slightly to touch Jamie’s.

They stood connected, arm in arm, just like how she and Dannick used to stand. The feeling made Arcadia angry. She could have this with Dannick again, but there was part of her that hated it. Hated that she would have to leave this place, to leave Jamie, all to fight a government that did nothing but use her since she was nine. Her hand tightened around Jamie’s arm, and he responded in kind.

“Cane came to find me, as a promise to Dannick, a long time ago.” she took another deep breath, this time her cold exterior breaking slightly, “He’s alive, Jamie. I was lied to, about his death, and he’s been alive all this time.” Arcadia could feel the anger growing in her chest, and tear welling in her eyes.

Jamie gasped quietly, “Arcadia…” he had no words to describe how he felt. He was conflicted: happy for her to know that her brother was alive, but also heartbroken for her to have not known, and to have been lied to. “I’m sorry.” He said lamely.

Jamie watched as Arcadia swallowed hard, clearly trying to keep her tears, whether of anger or anguish, he did not know, at bay.

“But it means I have to go back.”

“Why?”

“Because Dannick is everything to me. He pulled me through everything, until he couldn’t anymore,” she said angrily.

Her words bit at Jamie. He was surprised at how much it hurt him to hear her say that.

Arcadia continued, “He and I were a team. He was there for me through every fight, every break, every assault,” her spat, her anger growing, mixed with deep sadness. Jamie could now hear it in her voice.

“He promised me three days. He never came back. Now, I have the chance to get him back, to have him in my life again. I’m going to do it.”

Jamie looked at her with saddening eyes, having learned the determined look in her eyes some time ago. Despite having only known her for a little while, Jamie believed that they had something that no one else had. They had shared a kiss, for heaven’s sake! Anger was beginning to burn in his chest. Hatred for the man standing behind Arcadia, hatred for the people who lied to her, although he still didn’t really understand it all.

But he also understood her need to get him back. He understood why she wanted to. He squeezed her arm gently, looking down at their joined arms.

“When do you have to leave?” he whispered, his voice rougher than he had anticipated.

Arcadia shook, Jamie felt it, and he glanced back up at her. Her eyes were hard, but filling with tears.

“Now.”

A simple word. Small, tiny, but the most significant word that Jamie had ever heard.

“No…” Jamie breathed.

Arcadia shook her head again, trying to rid herself of the tears. Jamie moved away, but pulled on Arcadia’s arm. He needed to speak with her, alone. They walked a bit away from the other men, Angus, Rupert, and Murtagh standing silently off to the side, thoroughly flummoxed about the whole affair. Jamie paid them no mind, as he roughly pulled Arcadia away. Once he stopped, he let go of her hand quickly, resting his hands on his hips, trying to get his breath back.

“Jamie,” Arcadia began, almost as if she was asking him a question.

“Do we mean nothing to you? Do I mean nothing to you?” Jamie asked fiercely, not looking at her.

Arcadia remained silent, unsure what Jamie was getting at. She had a feeling, but she didn’t want to assume.

“Do you think that you will no be missed? Christ, Arcadia…” Jamie said, exasperated.

Arcadia scoffed, “It’s not like many people trust me Jamie, save you and maybe Murtagh.”

Jamie whipped around, pointing his finger at her, “Of course I trust you. Murtagh trusts you. Mrs. Fitz, Angus, Rupert, William, Little Angus, and majority of the children at Leoch!” Jamie was almost shouting at this point. “We all care for you. We all trust you. And you want to give that up?”

“This is not my time, Jamie! I don’t belong here!” Arcadia retaliated, spitting her words just as fiercely.

“You do! You do belong here!”

“I don’t! I could be killed for being a healer. I could be killed for being a woman. Fuck, Jamie, Dougal tried to have me killed before the Gathering!” Arcadia yelled, stepping in close to Jamie.

“You wouldn’t! Because I would be there. I would protect you. No one would touch you.” Jamie countered, hitting his own chest hard with each point.

Arcadia scoffed a mirthless laugh, “In what world would you be able to protect me Jamie?”

“A world where you're mine!” he said, shocked at his own words.

The air was still between them. Arcadia stared at Jamie as he stared back at her, both of their eyes wide with shock. Jamie was breathing heavily, his anxiety rising in his chest as he reflected his words. He opened his mouth, but it spoke no words, just gaping there like a fish.

Arcadia could feel her breathing increase as well. But she couldn’t look away from Jamie. She couldn’t process his words. _His?_ She blinked a few times, but returned her gaze to him.

“Yours?” she asked quietly, as if afraid to disturb the silence.

Jamie straightened his back with a quick jerk, and then nodded brusquely. “Yes.”

Arcadia bit her lip, still not understanding what he meant. She shifted her gaze away, feeling awkward about it now. _How could he want her to be his when she was… like the way she was? _She asked her herself over and over in her mind, heedless of Jamie’s movements.

Jamie stepped forward, pressing into Arcadia’s space carefully, fully aware that she could deck him if she didn’t like what he was doing. But when she didn’t respond right away, he took his chance. He raised his hand, and gently brought it to rest on her cheek. Arcadia jolted slightly at the slight caress, his index and middle fingers tracing the scar on her cheek. Arcadia flicked her eyes back to Jamie, wide with fear and awe.

“Aye. Mine. From the moment you looked at the stream that morning after you got here.” Jamie explained, his voice as soft and as gentle as his hand.

Arcadia felt the air gush out of her lungs painfully. It was as if she had been punched in the gut, but without the physical pain that went with it. She swallowed and licked her lips.

Jamie continued, “You looked at it with such awe, I knew that there was something entirely different about you. And then...” he cut off, shifting his feet closer to Arcadia. Arcadia breathed in deeply, Jamie’s scent filling her nose and calming her down despite him being the reason for her current anxiety. “You went into the water, and the laugh that escaped you was… pure. Beautiful. You are a marvel, Arcadia. The strongest woman I’ve ever met.” Jamie moved his hand to cup her face, lifting it slightly, forcing Arcadia to look at him directly.

“You are what I want. What I’ve been waiting for, Arcadia. And if it took a thousand years for you to find me, I will gladly wait another thousand.” He said, his voice become stronger as he spoke.

Another breath, and he moved his face to meet hers. He pressed his lips gently to Arcadia’s, waiting for any sign of refusal or fear from her. But it didn’t come. He felt her lips react with his, just a gently. Jamie loved the feel of her lips. Loved her smell. He pulled away slowly, and Arcadia followed. Their lips met again, but with a bit more force. Jamie felt the front of his jacket tighten, and he was astounded to realize that Arcadia was gripping it fiercely with one of her hands. His lips molded with hers a bit more, becoming deeper and more heated than they had shared before.

Arcadia couldn’t breathe. The feeling in her belly and chest grew exponentially, and it was warm. She moved her lips with Jamie’s, giving in to the feeling, giving into the care. It was unexpected, at least, that’s what Arcadia thought. Never had she been looked at like that, never been thought of like that. Though, she had never really given anyone the chance to do that. But here was Jamie, a man of almost primitive social conventions, wanting a woman like her. Fighting for a woman like her. She gripped his jacket tightly, her hand clenched painfully. She didn’t want the feeling, or his lips to stop. His hand on her face was so unnerving, yet so natural, Arcadia didn’t know what to think.

Jamie broke the kiss after what seemed like forever, but in reality had only been a few moments. He opened his eyes to find Arcadia’s face free of any worry, any pain. Her eyes were still closed, hand still tightly holding his jacket.

Arcadia opened her eyes, finding Jamie looking at her as if she was a treasure, rare and glorious. She shivered as his hand slid a bit from her face, down her neck. It wasn’t painful, nor did it remind her of anything painful from her past. It was a movement of caring, of tenderness that she had only truly experienced here, in this time.

“Let me protect you. Here. Now.” Jamie pleaded, his eyes portraying his desire for her to realize just how much he wanted her to stay.

Arcadia studied Jamie’s face, suddenly feeling an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“You’re asking me to choose?” she said disbelieving.

“I’m asking you think about it.” Jamie responded.

Arcadia’s eyebrows furrowed, “He’s my brother, Jamie.”

Jamie sighed, “I know that, Arcadia. But please, think. If you leave, you might not be able to come back.” Jamie clenched his jaw, working it as he fought his next words. “I’m afraid to lose you. To never see you again.”

Arcadia’s lip wobbled a bit at his words, they hit her hard, as she slowly began to realize just how important Arcadia had become to Jamie. And how important Jamie had become to her.

She breathed in shakily. She knew what she should rationally do, logic and reason dictated that she go back to find Dannick. To return to her own time, despite the dread and gut wrenching fear that twisted painfully in her stomach at the thought of returning to the war. But a little part of her wanted desperately to stay in this world, in this time, with Jamie. She wanted to be in a world of green, and water, and food. She wanted to remain in a world that didn’t take her for granted. Sure, some still wanted to kill her, but she believed that the many positives outweighed the cons.

But it was Dannick. The one who had been there since she was 14. The first person she opened up to since her mother had died. How could she abandon him, ignore this new information? What if Dannick has been hoping all these years that Arcadia would come barging through the door with guns blazing to save him? To rescue him like he had rescued her so many times? Her chest hurt at the thought. She could feel tears in her eyes, and she could do nothing as they poured down her face.

“But I canna force you stay.” Jamie said suddenly. His voice trembled as he spoke. He turned his head towards the other men, all of whom were still standing there, watching. “And I wouldn’t be the right man for you to stand in your way.”

Arcadia raised her head to look at Jamie with questioning eyes.

“Go find your brother. But please, try to come back.” Jamie said, tears falling from his eyes.

Arcadia started to shake. She breathed out heavily, her shoulders slumping. She fell forward into Jamie’s chest, resting her forehead. She felt his arms come to wrap around her, holding her tightly against his chest.

“Please, try to come back,” Jamie murmured into her hair, taking deep breaths in the hope of imprinting her scent in his mind. He knew that there was a strong chance that he would never see her again. It torn at his guts to tell her to leave, but he knew that making her choose was worse. He kissed her head once, and then held her for a few moments longer. "Please." 


	21. 53 days, 4 fours, and 56 minutes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It has been several weeks since Arcadia returned, and she is getting very frustrated.   
And to make matters worse? A huge, devastating storm is sweeping the land of Maranica.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, 
> 
> Hope everyone is safe and staying at home! I am sending positive energy to those who need it! :)   
Here is a new chapter. A little slower paced then some of my other chapters, but I felt like it was a necessary pause in action in order to meet some new characters, delve into some known ones, and a break :) 
> 
> As always, feedback and kudos are MUCH appreciated!! Thank you to everyone is has bookmarked my story, you have no idea how happy it makes me on a daily basis!! 
> 
> Thank you kindly, :) :)

Cane replayed the interaction between Arcadia and the red haired man, who Arcadia called Jamie, in his mind. He still couldn’t believe what he had seen, the fact that Arcadia had allowed the man to touch her, let alone kiss her.

He shook his head to clear it. He glanced to his side where Arcadia was standing. They were facing these large stones that radiated some sort of sound. Like a buzzing, and it was irritating to Cane’s nerves. He took a deep breath and turned his head to Arcadia.

“Ready?” he murmured.

He knew that this was going to be a difficult mission. Based on what he saw earlier, Arcadia was torn between coming back to find Dannick, and staying with the man that cared deeply for her, and her him.

Arcadia nodded curtly, but didn’t say anything else. Her outward appearance was hardening again, something akin to what Cane was used to seeing, but for some reason, it didn’t suit her anymore.

Arcadia glanced behind her once, fear and sadness flashing in her eyes, before turning back to the stones resolutely. Cane noted the change, and decided not to say anything. He raised his hand to the stone, and Arcadia followed suit. They placed their hands on the stone at the same time, and Arcadia’s stomach lurched. She could feel the same sensations when she was first sent into this time. There was a bright blue flash of light, and it felt like all the air was sucked out of Arcadia’s lungs.

She collapsed to her knees as she tried to draw breath, but her body did not cooperate. It was hot. Too hot, her skin felt like it was melting. Her lungs burned as she managed to breathe again. It was harsh and scratchy, and it was in that moment that Arcadia realized.

She was back.

****

Arcadia stayed on her knees for a while, sensing Cane’s prone form beside her. He had not dealt with the transition well either, and had passed out from the change. Arcadia’s head was pounding and her body was experiencing odd sensations as it tried to grow accustom to the new, old?, environment.

She felt a new presence in front of her, and she glanced up. She saw Kam’s face. It hadn’t changed much since the last time she saw him, but at the moment she couldn’t focus on it. It was blurry and spotty.

“Hark?” she heard, but it was muffled.

She shook her head slightly, trying to clear it, and it helped a bit. She blinked her eyes and it helped clear her vision even further.

“Arcadia,” Kam spoke again, flashing a light in her eyes painfully.

She flinched away from the light, raising her hand to push it away. “I’m fine, Kam,” she muttered despite her head still pounding.

Thankfully, Kam didn’t push it, but rather moved on to Cane, trying to wake him up.

Arcadia sat back onto her butt, and pulled her knees to her chest. There was this crushing feeling in the pit of her stomach that was growing with each breath she took. Tears were welling up in her eyes, and she knew that if she didn’t get a handle on her emotions, she wouldn’t stop crying.

She knew it was going to be hard to be away from Jamie, from that time, but she didn’t expect it to hurt this much. Her world was no longer hers. Her body hated the heat, hated the air that was more poison than oxygen. She was sweating already, and she moved to remove the jacket she still had on, the one that Angus had grabbed from the camp. She held onto the fabric tightly as she pulled it off of her, sighing in relief from the heat. Although it was hers, she crushed it to her face, trying to smell the world that she left, to have some sort of connection to it.

But the smell had faded quickly, overpowered by the smell of this world’s air. She swallowed down her cry of pain, of anguish. It was a hard feeling, but Arcadia used the only reason why she was back here as motivation.

Dannick was alive.

And she was going to get him back.

****

Arcadia kicked at the table in frustration. The plans that they had acquired from a somewhat questionable source turned out to be outdated, and it left them with basically nothing. Back to square one. Kam was in the room with Arcadia, monitoring the frequencies and writing down important pieces of chatter, but so far, nothing was connecting. Cane was out with Fox getting some supplies and more intel, but they wouldn’t be back for a while.

There were three new people in their company. One of which was the Elemental that had sent Arcadia back in time. Cane had explained that during his searches for her, traces of Arcadia’s biological signature was imprinted on the Elemental, and thus made them traceable. They had sought out a new Scout for the project, and Arcadia had not been pleased with the new addition. They were loud and irritating, more so than most Scouts, but unfortunately for Arcadia, a necessity. The Scout had managed to track the Elemental, and Cane led a mission to capture them.

Turns out, Kam was able to figure out a way to break through the conditioning the Elemental had endured. They had been taken, originally a Blur, and had been genetically mutated into something that they couldn’t control themselves, without the aid of an external device. Kam had explained that it made it virtually impossible for Stitchers to see what was wrong with them, and impossible to know the side effects of the device. Fox had been able to hack it, and break it down by using her Scavenger abilities. Once the device was taken down, the Elemental was able to regain some of their sense. Their name was Dela Flyn Mesmer, one of the fastest Blurs in the world. The reveal had been a shock, because they were unrecognizable after the experimentation. Their face had been altered to make it impossible to identify them, and thus unable to trace it back to the source.

Dela Flyn Mesmer had been a renowned name in Maranica. A perfect soldier in this war that had been taken and captured years ago. Dela, who had been loyal to a fault, was one of their own people. 

Arcadia slammed her fist into the table, cracking the surface slightly at the impact.

Her own government was experimenting on evolved humans, and setting them loose against their own people. The worst part was, Arcadia understood the reasoning. If the enemy was creating an offensive power that could wipe out Maranica, the more people of Maranica would enlist. But in order for such a tidbit of information to be true, there had to be a visible, and powerful enemy.

Based on the information that Kam uncovered, Noviasia had no such attack plan. They were dealing with an outbreak of a deadly virus that was taking out majority of their evolved beings. They had no time or money to create an army of super-evolved humans. So her own government was making it happen, and was pointing the finger.

And that’s where Dannick was. In a facility that mutated already evolved beings in order to create a new one. More powerful, and thus more useful. 

But each time they found updated plans of the facility, their plans would fail because Kam would pick up on the frequencies that they had been moved, or had been changed, again. They couldn’t understand why they changed so often, or how. And worse, they themselves had to move locations several times, as they would be attacked and ambushed every few weeks or so. Each time they left, with the help of the Elemental, Arcadia felt a strain on her heart. They kept moving farther and farther away from where the stones had once been located, and it killed a small part of her each time.

It had been 6 weeks, 3 days, 9 hours, and 23 minutes since she left Jamie. If Arcadia was honest with herself, she believed that they would’ve found Dannick already, or at least in the process of getting him out of the government’s hands. But they were no closer than they had been when she had first returned, and it was making Arcadia angry.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Kam, “Hey Hark? You’re gonna want to hear this,” he said, his voice betraying his fear. It worried her.

She pressed her comm and began listening to the feed Kam connected her to. Closing her eyes, she concentrated on the voice. After a moment, she glanced up quickly at Kam.

“Is that who I think it is?” she asked hesitantly.

Kam nodded his head grimly. Arcadia swallowed as she continued to listen. The general commander of the military was making a statement across all known feeds, connecting with every soldier on Maranica soil.

_“Attention all troops. Astral teams have notified all ground cities of a major Class A storm engulfing majority of the Southern Schisms. All troops are to return to their bases immediately. This is non-negotiable. All troops return to your home bases.”_

A chill shot down Arcadia’s spine. Class A storms were devastating. Whenever a Class A storm appeared, it literally wiped the world clean. Majority of the base camps and facilities were now built underground, save for housing in the bigger cities. Not that the government truly cared for its citizens, since it would just mean less mouths to feed.

Huge lightening surges, cyclones that could consume entire cities in one go. Scorching hot, taking away all moisture from the air, making it impossible to survive on the surface for longer than a few minutes. Arcadia remembered the last time there had been a Class A storm, and the one ship that hadn’t made it into their bunker in time. There had been nothing left of the people, or the ship itself. They had been turned to dust, having been cooked and burned into nothing. They had lost the second best team of evolved.

Arcadia left her comm on to hear any updates and changes. They were just north of the South Schism, but within the vicinity of feeling the effects.

“Get Cane on our wave,” Arcadia ordered, walking over to Kam’s desk.

He had a few computers and portable tech. He began to work fast in order to track Cane and Fox, pinging their comms to alert them. The two evolved glowed on Kam’s screen. Arcadia breathed in deeply. They weren’t too far away, but there was so much planning to do, they didn’t have the time for them to doddle. She ran out of the makeshift ops center and ran up the stairs. While their little base was underground, it was still somewhat exposed. It was an older base, no longer in use, so it hadn’t been kept well. There were some cave ins in the tunnels, so the connections between building pods were gone. They had managed to break down some of the tunnels in order to access the doors, but that meant they needed to go out side to get from the ops center to the med bay, or to the mess hall, and barracks.

Arcadia immediately ran for the med bay to grab her essential supplies. She grabbed a large tub and started filling it with supplies. Gauze, adrenaline, morphine, some stronger stuff, clamps and pliers. She also grabbed cooling clothes and spray on skin. If anyone of them got caught out in the storm, even in the beginning of it, they were more than likely going to have severe burns. Disinfectant. Gloves. Anesthesia. Some hardware that she knew she would possible need. By the end, she filled two tubs, and her pack.

As she hauled the tubs out of the door, she heard the approach of a truck. Dropping the tubs, she reached for her gun in her thigh holster and held it up with a steady hand. She watched as the truck came closer, and flashed its headlights three times. Sighing, she lowered her gun and put it back in its place. As the truck came closer, Arcadia saw Fox and Cane in the cab, worried and serious looks on their faces. They pulled up to Arcadia, who put the tubs into the back and hopped in. They drove over to the mess hall, and Fox jumped out of the cab and followed Arcadia into the building. They grabbed the meager supplies, and brought it back to the truck.

As they hurried from the building, there was a sudden electrical tension in the air. Fox and Arcadia glanced at each other before jumping onto the truck. The storm was getting closer, and fast. Cane punched the gas, and they sped to the ops center. It would be best and easier if they stayed in there during the storm, since there was more access to the rest of the world. The connections and tech were much more protected, and it gave Kam the chance to keep tabs on their enemy.

Fox and Arcadia jumped out of the back, and Cane climbed out of the cab. He slammed the door hard, and walked around to grab the two tubs of medical supplies.

“Fucking hate these storms,” he grumbled.

Arcadia glanced at him and knew that he was nervous. Storms like this always messed with his systems, whether he was in a deep underground facility, or on the other side of the Expanse. Despite the fact that Cane was not part cyborg, his electrical abilities went haywire.

Once they had unloaded the truck, Cane quickly drove the truck into the underground garage. That had taken a while to dig out, the door and tunnel having caved in almost completely. As Arcadia walked swiftly through the short tunnel and down the stairs, she felt a gust of wind push past her. When she reached the bottom, Dela was standing at the bottom, holding a few new pieces of tech for Kam. Arcadia glanced at her once, but then moved on quickly.

Arcadia still didn’t completely trust the Blur. It was justified, since the speeder had been mental tortured and brainwashed for the better part of four years. That sort of trauma didn’t just go away after removing the device that made it easier to do.

But she also couldn’t hate them. They had given Arcadia Jamie. They had given her a new world that was better, greener, cleaner.

She had seen the looks on everyone’s faces when she had told them briefly about where she had been sent. If Cane had not seen some of it for himself, she doubted they would have believed her completely.

So, no. Arcadia couldn’t hate Dela entirely. The first thing she did when she spoke to the speeder was thank them, and then punched them in the face, hard. It had been an interesting afternoon.

Dela kept pace with Arcadia as they walked down the hall to the ops center. “It’s about ten minutes away. We need to close the doors soon,” They said, before disappearing from Arcadia’s side.

Arcadia felt a rush of wind again, leading towards the door, seemingly going to help Cane close and seal the doors for the storm. Arcadia walked into the center and deposited her supplies in one corner. She saw that there were 8 cots lined up against the far wall already. She sighed. It was going to be close quarters until this storm blew over, and who knew how long that would take. The last one had taken 4 months to pass. Arcadia went over the rations from the mess hall and they had enough for about that long, if they stretched it out. They had a supply of liquid in one of the supply closets in the ops center, so they were okay there. If they became desperate, they could live on that alone for a while.

She turned towards the door of the ops center when she heard footsteps. Cane, Fox, and Dela had returned from closing the door, and were carrying the last of the supplies.

“Buckle down everyone. It’s gonna be a tough one,” Kam called out, as he monitored the screens.

Arcadia crossed her arms and sighed. She closed her eyes as she began to hear the howling outside, even though they were underground. These storms were powerful and terrifying, and they set Arcadia’s teeth on edge.

Now, all they could do was wait.

*****

_7 days, 12 hours, and 47 minutes. _

Two bases in the Far South Schism were destroyed, killing about two teams, consisting of about five evolved and ten regs.

_19 days, 3 hours, and 9 minutes._

Another base destroyed. Fourteen lives lost. Storm was raised to Class A1, meaning it was growing in size, both upward and outward. It was now covering majority of the Southern Schisms, including part of where Arcadia’s team was located.

_33 days, 7 hours, and 33 minutes._

Kam cursed in frustration as another base was destroyed, killing everyone inside, but this time it was too far north than what the storm had been tracked at. He stood up from the desk and walked away, running his hands over his head, scratching at the bald, scarred skin.

Arcadia watched as he paced, scratching deeper into his head. She stood up when he started to draw blood from scratching so hard. She stepped in front of him, and forced him to look at her.

“Henry,” she said quietly.

He huffed a breath at her, but lowered his hands and wiped them on his pants. He then placed them in her open hands, and she slowly Stitched his skin back together.

“It was Base Roe,” Kam choked out. He swallowed hard as he tried to keep the tears from his eyes. “Abdel was in that base.” He said, a tear escaping from his eye.

Arcadia, who was still holding his hands, gave them a squeeze. She didn’t say anything, because she knew no words would help in that moment. Abdel and Henry had been together for years, and even though it had mostly been long distance, they made it work.

“I promised I’d see him again, Cadi…” Kam whispered, his voice tight and hoarse from keeping back his pain.

Arcadia blinked back her own tears, and she shifted so that she could hold onto Kam a bit more. She swallowed and cleared her throat. “May the stars guide his path in his end. Through the sky, across the dry sea, may he find peace,” Arcadia murmured into Kam’s ear.

“May you see him again, after the sky clears, after the sea fills,” Cane spoke up from his cots.

“May it be a joyous reunion, hands clasped together, stronger and forever,” Argo said next.

“And may you find peace by his side,” Fox finished.

Silently, all of the members of Arcadia’s team stood up and walked to stand beside Kam. Kam breathed in shakily, more tears flowing down his cheeks.

“After weary battles, separated by death, find strength.” They said in unison, ending the funeral proclamation.

Kam broke down then, shoulder shaking with the sobs that wracked his body. They surrounded him in support, placing a hand on his shoulders, on his arms. They kept their contact until he no longer sobbed.

When he finally did relax enough, Arcadia gave him some liquid and food, and got him to rest. Cane took over for the monitoring, with Argo beside him to keep him company.

Arcadia sighed. It was going to a long storm.

_53 days, 4 fours, and 56 minutes. _

“He can see the future,” Arcadia whispered. It was silent in the ops centre, everyone either sleeping, or just simply being. It had been a while since anyone spoke, unless absolutely necessary.

Cane looked over at her from his cot. He tilted his head and studied her. Arcadia hadn’t spoken to anyone in particular, so he didn’t respond immediately.

Turning her head slightly towards Cane, Arcadia continued, “He can see the future,” she repeated.

“Who?” he asked.

“Dann. Scouts can see glimpses, and he could see at least an hour,” she breathed quickly as she explained. “What if they manipulated that?” she asked, shifting from her spot on her cot to face Cane completely.

Cane leaned up on his elbows and studied her, taking in her words. “But that would mean…” he trailed off.

“That whenever we make a plan to free Dannick, he can see it, and they can avoid it,” Arcadia finished for him.

“And if they have done the same thing to Dann as they did to Dela, there’s no telling what he is doing willingly,” Cane added, sitting up completely now.

Argo, who was listening on the other side of Cane, leaned forward, “So what can we do?”

Arcadia licked and then bit her bottom lip. Although she had thought of what the problem was, she hadn’t been able to think of a solution. At least, not yet. “I’m not sure… I mean, he managed to evade capture for almost three years before he came to the facility.” Arcadia explained.

Now, everyone was listening to the conversation. Kam came over from the desk to sit on a chair at the table near the cots. His face was drawn and pale. Arcadia knew he was grieving, but she gave him a boost every so often to make sure he wouldn’t fall ill. But there was a determination in his eyes that told Arcadia that he now had more motivation to get back at the government.

Abdel had been a reg, fully human. Base Roe had been a low functioning base for less essential people, i.e. those without abilities, but important enough to gain clearance for missions. The army could be made up of just the evolved. But it also meant that not every Reg Base was fully maintained. The loss of Base Roe probably wasn’t considered a huge loss, since it was mainly a housing quarter for army regs.

Kam cleared his throat, “Well, assuming that he has been evolved again, and that he is under their control somehow, he is most likely able to see far more than simply an hour into the future,” he paused, running his hand over his face tiredly. “And any plan that we come up with, he will see and alert his superiors.” He frowned, “Although, I’m not too sure why they would be trying to avoid us. As far as anyone knows, you are dead,” Kam mentioned, pointing towards Arcadia.

Arcadia blinked at the statement. “You’re right. Why would it be this difficult to find Dannick, if they don’t know I’m alive and looking for him…” she asked, growing more silent as she began to think about it.

No one had any answers, falling into silence as they absorbed the new, hesitant information. As they sat around the cots and table, the howling of the storm could be heard above them. It sent shivers down Arcadia’s spine. She hated the storms, and she missed the sound of rain on her roof. Closing her eyes, she tried to remember the smell of grass, the scent of pastries from the kitchen, the sounds of children running around on the grounds. She frowned slightly. Everything was slowly fading. The dry, hot heat of her world was taking over everything, even in her memory. She craved the freedom to roam, even in the rain. She missed the feel of how the cool breeze felt on her cheek, how her hair would float around her face, tickling her nose. She longed for Jamie’s hand on hers.

Arcadia flicked her eyes towards Kam, wondering what he was feeling in this moment. Had he felt like this all the time, whenever he was parted from Abdel? Had he felt a horrible snap in his chest when he left him, when he knew he may never see him again, despite his promise? She saw the sag in Kam’s shoulders as he watched the monitors. The life seemed to have been sucked right out of him.

Getting up from her cot, she walked over to Kam’s desk, pulling a chair to sit beside him. Once she settled, she rested her arms on the desk in front of her.

“If you could see him again, what would you say?” she asked quietly, barely more than a murmur.

Kam tensed beside her, but then sighed heavily. “I would say, I love you,” he whispered, quickly wiping at his nose as he sniffed.

Arcadia turned her head to face Kam, a few tears tracking down her face, “When did you know?”

“That I loved him?” Kam asked, raising an eyebrow. When Arcadia nodded, he breathed in deeply. “We had been sort of seeing each other for a while, nothing too big. One day, he was being deployed out, and when we were saying goodbye and good luck, I saw him hesitate for a second. I did too, but at the moment, I was too nervous to make a move.” Kam smiled sadly at the memory, more tears springing to his eyes. “He almost walked away, but then I heard him say, ‘Fuck it,’ and he whipped back around and kissed me.” Kam breathed, smiling slightly in fondness, “He kissed me, held me close, and whispered I love you. It felt like everything had finally slotted into place. Everything made sense. It was easier to breathe, easier to see, easier to just be.” Kam faded, as if reliving the memory.

Arcadia sniffed, and wiped her nose on her sleeve harshly. Damn her emotions, she thought to herself.

“I promise, Cadi,” Kam said quietly, reaching out a hand to rest on her arm, “we’ll get Dannick back. And get you back to him.” Kam stressed the word him.

Arcadia looked at him curiously.

Kam tilted his head, “Whoever it is that made you feel human again.”

Arcadia tensed in that moment, feeling an onslaught of tears welling up inside her. She suddenly felt uncomfortable.

Kam half smiled at her, “I’ve known you for years, Cadi. I know your face.” He brushed his fingers on her arm for a quick second. “And I’ve only seen you cry for one other person in my life. So, to have you here, crying for my loss, means that something has changed enough to make you feel again.”

Arcadia’s throat ached from holding back a cry. She blinked back tears, feeling confused with everything that she was feeling. She didn’t know what to do with it, and it made her skin itch.

“And that’s a good thing, Cadi,” he said reassuringly, patting her arm and then removing it. “It’s a good thing,” he repeated, turning his attention back to the screens.

Arcadia sighed shakily beside Kam, shaking off her sadness and loneliness in favour of watching the monitors with Kam. She watched as he clicked a few buttons, changing the screens every so often, whenever there was static. Based on what she saw, the storm was slowly moving towards the Expanse. It would be at least another week before it completely moved away from their location, and dissipated.

As she watched, she let her mind wander. The storm system itself was chaotic. It swirled in no discernible pattern, and that’s what made it so dangerous. It would just show up out of nowhere, but be so devastating, ever changing, that they had no way to prepare properly. She continued to watch the storm swirl around and around, as if it was a living, breathing thing. Arcadia blinked.

“I think I know how we can sneak up on Dannick.”


	22. 124 Days of Thunder and Cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still stuck from the storm, but more things are brewing behind the great walls of dust, ash, and heat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! 
> 
> Sorry this is such a short chapter. Strategy is not my thing, and trying to figure it out so that it makes sense? Even harder. So please, be patient with me, and I hope that I can deliver something awesome to you all in the near future! 
> 
> Also, sorry for the slow and late update. 
> 
> Anywhooooooo, here's the chapter! 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

Kam turned to look at Arcadia, waiting for her to continue. Arcadia took a deep, steadying breath to arrange her thoughts.

“How many teams do you think have defected?” she whispered.

Kam frowned, “Uh… Well that would be based on the number of teams we’ve lost, whether through storms or the war,” he paused, thinking of the possibilities, “and whether or not they were deliberate defections or not. Why?”

“Is there any way to find out?”

“Possibly, but I still don’t see how this helps us.” Kam answered honestly.

Arcadia looked back at the screen. “Dannick could never tell when a storm system was coming. It’s too random, too chaotic. It always made his head spin and the only indication that he had was when he didn’t see anything more than once,” she growled in frustration, “Dannick explained it to me once, but that was a long time ago.”

Kam watched Arcadia carefully, and followed her line of site to the computer monitor that showed the storm. Slowly, he began to realize what she was getting at. “Cause enough chaos that he literally can’t see us coming.”

“Exactly.”

Kam turned his chair to face her. “Get other defected teams to add to the chaos, so that he can’t pinpoint our movements.”

Arcadia nodded. Kam blinked a few times, his mind racing through ways to get this to work.

“I’ll try some of the dark waves with other Talkers. Not many know about it, and it takes a few years to hone the skills necessary to reach those waves. Mostly, those who don’t want to be found will have a Dark Talker on their side.” Kam explained, twisting his chair back to his monitors and began typing away.

“I’ll go fill everyone else on the idea for the plan. Then we’ll talk strategy,” Arcadia said, getting up from her chair, any feelings of sadness now pushed to the side.

****

Everything was coming into place. With the storm still raging on, their movements and planning were spotty, which worked in their favour. Kam had managed to contact seven different teams that were supposedly dead, or labeled traitors and on the run. It was mind boggling how many people there were how had been wronged by their government, but unable to do anything about it.

Arcadia’s eyes ran over the plans again, for what was probably the three hundredth time. Intel from other teams had given them the missing pieces, and they had managed to locate the building where Dannick was being held. Luckily for them, it wasn’t very far from their own base. But it was fortified, and heavily guarded, which made their plan tricky.

The building itself was enormous. It was built into the ground, almost reaching the earth’s crust. The infrastructure was impenetrable, since it housed majority of the government officials and upper Evolved. It was basically the head quarters of their government, although such knowledge of the building was unknown to the public. One of Kam’s acquaintances, Rhett, stole a lot of information about the building off their private servers before he skipped out and disappeared. To top it off, he left himself a little back door, so that if he ever needed to get back in, he could with no issue and with no chance of getting caught.

It was going to take everyone to pull this off, and even then, Arcadia felt dread in the pit of her stomach. They knew where the building was, and what the structure of it looked like, but they had no idea as to where Dannick was being held. If he was being held. Arcadia cursed herself for thinking it, but there was the possibility that Dannick was willingly working for the government, whether unknowingly doing their dirty work, or fully aware, and helping them to accomplish it. She mentally shook her herself. She needed to keep her mind clear of Dannick, so that they had a fighting chance at winning. Since she had come up with the plan, it was already at risk for discovery, but it was the only way they were going to recruit so many people.

Arcadia was scratching her arm, wearing the skin raw, when she felt a presence beside her. She glanced to her left and saw that Cane had come to stand close to her, watching her with intent eyes.

“We’re all set,” he said grimly.

Arcadia knew that Cane didn’t really approve of the plan. Hell, she barely liked it either, but they had no other choice. Dannick would forever see us coming, and whether or not he could control himself, he would reveal their plans and movements to the government, and they would be caught.

She took a deep breath, “How long before the storm passes enough?” she asked, her voice rough from being quiet for so long. She was parched, but their supply of liquid was running low, so she couldn’t risk taking anymore.

The storm was lasting longer than anyone could have predicted. 124 days, 2 hours, and 33 minutes. Their rations were running extremely low, and Arcadia could only hope that it would pass soon. For their plan to work, they needed the cover of the last dregs of the storm to keep them hidden.

It also meant that she had been away from Jamie for just over five months. The emptiness in her chest was growing, making the numb aching spread slowly throughout her body.

“Kam is thinking that in the next day or two we should be in the clear to go,” Cane said.

Taking a deep breath, she swallowed compulsively. “Okay.” She turned to Cane, looking at him seriously. “Am I leading us to our deaths?”

Cane remained silent for a moment, taking his time to consider her words and his answer. He glanced down at the plans, which had been well thought out, despite the ever present possibility that everything could change and fall apart in a blink.

“We fought hard to keep our team together. We will fight hard to get it back. And if that means we will see each other beyond the stars, then so be it,” Cane sad firmly.

Arcadia breathed out slowly through her nose and turned away. “Fuck.”

****

“Okay, they can all hear you. Go ahead,” Kam said quickly, pressing a few keys on the monitor and then shifting back.

Arcadia stepped forward, along with Cane, to face the monitors. The video images were spotty, some cutting out every few seconds, but she could see the other teams and their leaders.

“Alright people. Last time. Myett is a Scout, so he will see us coming once the storm passes. We are working under the assumption that he has been Evolved against his will and so his ability is ten fold. It is our goal to keep him confused,” Arcadia shifted her feet uncomfortably as she spoke. She crossed her arms and tried to keep her voice level. “Six teams with three different targets within the same building will shuffle the future enough that he won’t be able to see it coming, or its variance.”

Cane moved forward a bit and cleared his throat, “Each team will follow the instructions individually given, and will not be discussed with any other team. This will work to our advantage, so then we are all thinking of a different plan.”

“The only time that we have to converge plans is the initial attack,” Arcadia cut in. “In order to get the weapons we need, and access into the building, the Blurs from each team will move first. Each have their individual assignments, so there is some coverage, but it won’t last for long.”

“Once we have our weapons, each team will split and go according to their plan.” Cane finished.

It was quiet for a moment, the slight sound of static filling the air.

“Any one want to back out should do so now,” Arcadia added, her voice low and gravely.

Her eyes flicked to each screen, expecting them all to say fuck it and cut out, but all she saw was determined face.

“I know I’m asking a lot from you to risk entering the storm, even at its weakest,’’ Arcadia continued, “But I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t worth the risk.”

There were a few hums and nods in agreement, but to Arcadia’s surprise, Dela stepped forward.

“We know the risks. We understand them,” they said, looking directly at Arcadia. “Your team didn’t even know me, and they freed me from that hell. I remember every second of it, and it still hurts. So trust me when I say that you and your team are not the only ones who want some revenge.”

Arcadia watched as many more heads nodded in agreement, some even voicing their assent.

Licking her dry lips, Arcadia took a deep breath.

“Then let’s give these fuckers what they deserve,” Arcadia said harshly, anger seething under her skin, fueling her drive to fight to the very end to get Dannick back.

There was an uproar over the monitors of men and women yelling angrily, the moment heightened by the sound of loud thunder above their heads. It sent shivers down Arcadia’s spine, and she couldn’t help but feel a flutter of hope blossom in the pit of her stomach.

They could do this.

They had to.


	23. The Compound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan is in motion. Will they make it and reach Dannick?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, okay, okay, I'm sorry. This has been a tough one to get right, so I'm sorry for the lateness of an upload.   
If there are any mistakes, or somethings that just don't make any sense, please let me know. 
> 
> I'm sorry that I haven't posted in a bit. I'll try to do better. 
> 
> Thank you very kindly for sticking with this story, and putting up with me. I really appreciate it!!!

Arcadia pulled on her long sleeved shirt that was layered with protective material. It would have to do in the scorching heat and storm outside, but it was a little comfort. She tugged on a cowl around her neck, so that she could cover her face when needed. Finally, she put on another protective layer with a hood to try and keep out as much grating sand as she could.

Everyone in the base were doing the same thing. Today was the second to last day of the storm, and so it was time to move. It would take two days to reach the compound and breach it, so they needed to be ready for just about anything.

Arcadia had to keep her wits about her, as she was the main Stitcher of the teams, but she was finding it difficult to concentrate. In her attempts to not think of Dannick, she was constantly reflecting on Jamie, which only made her heart ache. She couldn’t place the feeling exactly, only that each time she thought of his face, of his voice, she would feel this sharp pain in her chest, as if someone was carving out her insides with a hot knife.

“All set?”

Arcadia glanced up at Dela, the one who would be making all of Arcadia’s decisions for her from here on out. With a frown, she nodded. The pit in her stomach clenched painfully with nerves. Although she was determined to get Dannick back, there was the strong possibility that the plan would fail, and they would get caught and killed, or miss Dannick once again and be back to square one.

Picking up her pack, she threw across her back and strapped into place. It was a bit heavier than normal with all the supplies for burns and wounds that she had packed. Arcadia followed Dela towards the main door, where Cane and Kam were standing with their gear.

The tension was palpable in the room. They were going out into a dangerous storm that could likely kill them, despite it being near the end. But Arcadia knew that the risk was worth it, because freeing Dannick was more than just a vendetta. It was saving a life from bondage. Saving them from a life of control and pain, and giving them a fighting chance.

Cane looked back at Arcadia, staring at her with a look she couldn’t quite decipher. Raising her chin, a bit, she matched his gaze, and slowly he nodded.

“Let’s move out,” he said loudly for everyone to hear, although they were all standing at the ready.

Carefully, both Kam and Cane opened the doors to the outside world. The howling had subsided a bit, but it was still a painful gust of blazing heat that swept through the hall as the doors creaked open. It made Arcadia gasp, and she moved her cowl to cover her face. She blinked back tears that had sprung to her eyes, and she heard everyone else react similarly. She gazed around to make sure everyone was still in tip top shape, and when she saw that everyone was okay, she turned her attention to Dela.

“What’s next boss?” she asked drily. Sweat was already gathering on her brow and rest of her body, making every moment standing there highly unbearable.

Dela turned to Arcadia and based on the way their eyes crinkled, they were grinning at her.

“Now, we catch our ride,” they said with a hint of smugness in their voice.

Arcadia raised an eyebrow, but before she could say anything else, she heard a completely different sound on the wing. The distinct heavy thuds of an old chopper being landed. She peered out into the sand wall, trying to catch a glimpse of the antique machine, and her eyes boggled when it finally came into view.

Dela jogged out into the sand, keeping their body low to void being thrown about by some rogue wind gust. They reached the chopper, which was heavily bladed and armored. The front where the glass of the windshield usually was, was black out with a thick metal of some kind, which perplexed Arcadia. Carefully, everyone followed Dela who had opened the door of the chopper with a mighty tug. Inside, it was dark, but light somewhat with switches and screens. Arcadia quickly jumped up and into the cabin, moving towards the other side into a seat.

She hadn’t been in a chopper before. She had only read about them, and their inevitable inefficiency. Quickly, she tugged on the straps to keep her in place, while everyone else piled in and did the same. Cane closed the door finally, but it did nothing to help with the noise. Dela reached over to Arcadia and put on a head set with a mic.

Immediately, there was a crackle and she heard Dela speak.

“Ready when you are Harlin!” they said loudly over the radio, turning their head to face the cockpit.

Leaning over, Arcadia could see that the blacked out windshield had been replaced with a screen that depicted the outside just as clearly as it would normally. The difference being, the metal wouldn’t break if something in the wind whipped up and hit them. She also saw a man sitting in the front with a headset on as well, his head covered with a thick grey material.

“We are a go,” he said into the mic, his voice thick and heavy.

Immediately, he reminded her of Murtagh of all people, and she smiled internally. It settled her stomach slightly, the calm feeling that some part of her past was with her, despite being away for so long.

She felt the sway of the chopper under her as it lifted from the ground. Closing her eyes, she turned her thoughts to Jamie, keeping her mind occupied and hidden from Dannick. She revisited Leoch and her own hut, the way she had fixed it up. She remembered the moments of fun with the children in the yard, running around and squealing in delight. Her stomach dropped as the chopper swooped under her.

Flicking her eyes open, she glanced around at everyone. Everyone seemed ready and alert. Arcadia couldn’t help but wonder what would have happened had she not left. Had she not returned from the past with Cane. Doubt and uncertainty flooded her mind as she began to think of the possibilities of the consequences of her actions. These people were putting their lives at risk for her, and they didn’t exactly owe her anything.

Shaking off her current train of thought, as it was too dangerous to think about, she reverted to thinking about storms and the differences between the past and the present. Arcadia spent the rest of the flight thinking about that, which felt like it had been at least several hours.

She shifted in her seat, and Dela caught her movement. Looking at her, they raised their eyebrow.

There was a crackle in the headset, “You okay?” Dela asked.

Arcadia nodded, but then shifted again uncomfortably. “Legs are sore,” she admitted.

“Tell me about,” Dela responded, with a grin on their face.

“5 minutes out,” Harlin spoke briskly into the mic.

Arcadia startled. They had arrived already? Cursing slightly to herself, she knew that it was probably part of the plan to keep her mostly in the dark, and it infuriated her, despite the fact that it was _her _idea to begin with.

The tension in the cabin grew think again, as everyone shifted in their seats, adjusting their straps and weapons. They were one step closer to finding and freeing Dannick.

****

Another team had already beat them to the temporary base site and had set up everything they would need. Kam quickly made his way over to the computers with the other Talkers, and they began working on their tasks. Arcadia tended to some of their wounded, as they had been hit with a hard gale of fire sand a few hours previous. The worst wound had been a 5th degree burn that required Arcadia to reconstruct ligaments and some bone, which had been taxing and painful for both of them.

Dela informed Arcadia that once she was done attending to the patients, she was to rest and recover for the next part of the plan. Knowing that she needed to listen to Dela, she complied mostly willingly, since the Stitching had taken a lot of out her.

When Arcadia woke up several hours later, there were a lot more people at the base. Some had minor wounds, but thankfully none were so severe that required Arcadia’s attention. As Arcadia watched the bustle of people in the base, she felt a slight pinch in her stomach. Guilt and fear gnawed at her, pinching and pulling as everyone geared up to begin this fight.

She watched Kam as he spoke with other Talkers, monitoring the screens for movements within the compound, although much of it was in code, so Arcadia couldn’t understand what they were reading. Turning a bit, she glanced at Cane, who was speaking with Argo. They both seemed a little closer than usual, and Arcadia noted that their friendship had begun to grow substantially. She wondered briefly if they were becoming an item, despite the hardships they had both faced in their lives. Arcadia could feel herself becoming soft, because she warmed to the idea of Cane and Argo together. It was a good match, and together they could accomplish anything.

Before meeting Jamie, Arcadia probably would have seen it as a distraction. Her heart and soul closed off to the world, against the heat that would at some point burn them to nothing.

She felt more than saw Dela approach her, and so didn’t turn when they spoke.

“We’re almost ready to go,” Dela said. “You need to go pack your gear lightly, and visit Rena, the weapons master, for your gun.” Dela pointed to a towering woman with pitch hair and a ragged scar running down the length of her face and neck.

Arcadia’s eye snapped to Dela, “I don’t use guns,” she said firmly.

Dela scoffed, “You will today.”

Glaring at her, Arcadia reluctantly walked over to Rena’s station, where she was given a fairly large gun with plenty of ammo, and a smaller on that fit into a holster that was strapped to her thigh.

As Rena tightened the strap, she grumbled instructions, “Use your big gun for array strike. Don’t have to be pretty about it.” She stood and looked at Arcadia with a serious gaze before holding up the smaller gun. “This one is powerful because it uses short laser blasts. It has enough juice to take down at least 50 asshats, but be careful. Short range only, and don’t,” she paused for effect, “look down the barrel.”

“I know how to use a gun,” Arcadia deadpanned.

“Yeah, but not mine. Evolved are the only ones who get upgrades,” Rena said smugly, a smirk on her face.

It hit Arcadia that Rena was a Reg, as she gazed up and down Rena’s body in assessment. For a moment, she wondered why a Reg would be part of such a mission, but she soon realized that the government didn’t fuck over just Evolved, but everyone. This was just as much Rena’s fight as it was her own, and she was in no position to judge her.

Conceding to her, Arcadia nodded, “Yes ma’am.”

Rena smirked full on and scoffed. “Fuck off.”

Arcadia’s lip twitched slightly before she headed off to grab her pack.

Much of the items in her back had been used up, but thankfully, she was used to carrying a lot in it, so she only lightened it a little bit. She knew full well that she was going to need as much as she could in case things went awry.

“Delta team! Move out!” Arcadia heard someone yell across the base.

Lifting her head to the sound, she was surprised to Cane and Argo moving towards the exit. Looking at them in confusion, she tried to walk over to them and ask, but a hand stopped her. She whipped her head around and Dela was right there.

“Don’t,” they said simply, as if that answered everything.

Arcadia could feel her heart rate quicken at the thought of being without Cane or Argo. She didn’t like being away from them, and especially didn’t like having to go into battle without them. She had lost Dannick that way, and she was thoroughly unprepared to do so again.

“Why are we separating?” she demanded.

“This was your idea,” Dela admonished.

“I mean my team.”

Dela tilted their head at Arcadia, “Are you serious? Dannick would probably see that coming from a mile away, and then the whole plan would be fucked.” Dela released Arcadia’s arm once she saw that the Delta team had left. “Besides, Cane wanted to secure… things before our team went in.”

Arcadia silently seethed, because she knew that Dela was right. Closing her eyes, she breathed in deeply and then out. “And I supposed you’re not going to tell me when we leave?”

“Nope.”

Arcadia nodded, jutting out her chin a bit frustration before turning back to her pack and closing it up.

A few hours later, one of the Talkers spoke excitedly over the comm system, and Kam moved towards him immediately. As he listened in as well, he nodded once. He turned around and looked for Dela. Catching her eye, he nodded again.

Taking a deep breath, Dela called out, “Sigma team, roll out!”

Arcadia watched as a few people she had never met before stood and walked towards the exit. Dela strode over to her and gestured for her to follow.

This was it. The plan was still working, so they still had some advantages. As she walked purposefully out of the base, head still covered with the heavy grey material against the harsh sands, she forced herself to think of anything but Dannick. But it kept on slipping into her mind that she was going to get him back.

Once they were a fair bit away from the base, Arcadia saw two of her Sigma team group together and then disappear. Glancing around in confusion, she saw another couple do the same thing. And then she felt Dela wrap an arm around her waist, and the other at the back of her neck. Without much more warning, Arcadia felt her feet leave the ground and the world blurred around her. A horrible feeling of queasiness engulfed her entire body, but the force on her body did not allow her to throw up. It was uncomfortable and suffocating, but thankfully, didn’t last too long.

What felt like an hour later, but in reality it had been fifteen seconds, Arcadia was placed on the ground again at the entrance of the above ground compound. Leaning over, Arcadia hurled her guts out, her head spinning. She stumbled a bit, but the arm around her waist didn’t move, so she didn’t fall flat on her face into her own vomit.

“What,” she wheezed, trying to gasp in a breath, “the _fuck_.”

“Sorry. It isn’t for everyone,” Dela stated as she rubbed gently on Arcadia’s back.

Resting her hands on her knees, Arcadia drew in deep breaths, now that her lungs knew how to function again. She was still dizzy however, which did not bode well for their next task. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath in, focusing on clearing her head as much as possible.

Which immediately cleared.

It was a stark difference, one that surprised Arcadia. It was as if her body had actually listened to her mind and righted itself without much fuss. Straightening up, she turned in Dela’s arms to look at her. She frowned when she saw that Dela’s face was scratched with wind rash. Placing her hand gently on her face, she Stitched the skin back together.

Turning towards the others that were standing there as well, she tended to their faces quickly.

“You gonna take all day, or can we move on?” she heard Cane call.

Arcadia whipped her head towards the main door, and saw Cane standing in the doorway with this gun hanging loosely in his heads. She jogged over to him along with her team and entered the building.

There was an instant change of temperature and air. Inside it was all regulated and clean, and it was quite a nice change from the past several months in the same room.

“How many?” she asked Cane as she walked beside him along the hallway.

“Eighteen guards at the front, but that’s was standard. Took them down fairly easily. The other teams that showed up moved onto other areas of the compound, heading east and south,” Cane explained, gesturing down two different hallways. “We’ve secured the first six floors, but we are nowhere near where we need to be.”

Arcadia nodded grimly. “I’m assuming they know we’re here now.”

Cane nodded, “One of the guards was able to sound an alarm that locked down the lower levels of the compound.”

A crackle came over the comms, “_And that’s where I come in,”_ Kam said. He sounded almost excited.

“Are you going to be the wizard and open sesame?” Arcadia asked.

“_Damn straight. Head down the north hall to the end, and get in the elevator. Take it as far as it will go,”_ Kam ordered, his voice brokering no nonsense.

As a unit, Arcadia, Dela, Cane, and two of her Sigma team left down the hallway. The others turned and left down another hallway, seemingly under different orders now that they had made it to the compound.

At the end of the hall, the elevator door opened and they all pushed inside. Cane pressed the lowest button and the doors closed.

Arcadia glanced at the numbers on the screen and saw that they were going down far. This was going to be the tricky part of the plan. It was easy getting into the compound. The problem was getting out. According to the blueprints of the compound, there weren’t too many exits available, and most of them were elevators. Two to be exact, one on either end of the compound. In order to get from the lower levels to the ground, it require special access, which Kam was thankfully able to bypass.

As the neared the 30th level below ground, Cane and Dela both readied their weapons. Arcadia and the others followed their lead.

“Once this door opens, we’re going to be met with hostiles. Start shooting immediately,” Cane ordered, his voice going low as he grew more anxious about the next steps in the plan.

A small shudder ran down Arcadia’s spine as she mentally prepared herself for a fight. Although she had her guns, she had also brought her knives with her. If it came down to it, she would use them.

Glancing at the screen, she saw it read 27.

Deep breath.

28.

Out. She raised her gun.

29.

In. Finger in the trigger.

30.

The doors began to slide open and already there were shots being fired at them.

Arcadia opened fire as the door opened completely, moving quickly out of the elevator to gain some ground. Cane was right beside her, and the lethal force of both their guns were substantial. Rena had really done a number on them, as the hostiles on the other side of the elevator dropped fairly quickly.

They fanned out from the elevator and scanned the long halls ways in three directions.

Pressing the comm on her neck, Arcadia knew that this was her part of the plan, “Kam. Where is he?”

A crackle, “_Take the hall way ahead of you, then turn left.” _

They made their way quickly down the hall and to the left before coming to an slightly more open area that branched off into other hallways and what looked like doors to rooms.

There was a growl in frustration, “_Cadi, he could be in literally anyone of those pods down there._” There was a hint of defeat in his voice.

“How many?” she asked.

“_Thirty-seven._”

“What?” Arcadia asked, shocked.

“_This is where the blueprints were a bit hazy. I couldn’t get a read on them until Cane got down there_.” Kam explained.

Arcadia sighed in frustration. “So then there could be traps,” she turned to Dela, “No running in blind.”

Dela nodded in understanding.

Arcadia needed a minute to think about their next move, despite how dangerous it could be. “Any hostiles moving in on our position?” she asked Cane.

He shook his head, “None, maybe 2 minutes?”

Arcadia closed her eyes and thought about Dannick, and where the government scientists would keep him. If there were thirty-seven pods on this level, surely not all of them were used for Evolved modifications. Some would have to be infirmary, laboratories, screening rooms, and potentially bunks for the Evolved.

Snapping her eyes open, she pressed her comm again, “Kam, can you figure out which rooms are mainly used for screening and labs?”

There was a crackle on the comms, and Arcadia waited as she knew Kam was looking into it.

“_Yeah, it brings our number down to fifteen.”_

Arcadia nodded, “Can you -”.

_“Already done,”_ Kam interjected.

Before her eyes, a map of the level lit up her implants and the pods that they were looking for were highlighted.

Arcadia turned to the two Blurs, “You two take the five down that hall way. Comm if you find him.”

The two nodded, and immediately set out, gun raised.

“Dela, think you can handle the four down that way?” Arcadia asked, gesturing at the hallway behind the Blur.

“You got it, boss,” Dela said with a smirk before turning and raising her gun.

“That leaves you and me for the last six,” Cane said, already moving towards the hallway just a bit to their left.

Arcadia followed quickly, as they needed to make their moves as fast as possible. But being down there put a horrible feeling in the pit of her stomach. Other than the hostiles at the elevator, it seemed that the place was deserted. None of the doors opened, no guards came flooding out to attack them. It made her uneasy.

“Stay sharp,” she said over the comms to her team, “I don’t like this.”

The first three rooms they checked were clear. Despite the coolness of the building, Arcadia was sweating. Her heart was racing. As they came to the fourth room, Arcadia stopped and pulled on Cane to stop too. She could hear several other racing heart beats on the other side of the door and she signalled Cane to be ready. As he moved to the other side of the door, Arcadia saw that it opened slightly. A small device was rolled out.

“Down!” She yelled, as she threw herself onto the ground, away from the device.

A split second after, the device exploded, causing a concussive blast to bombard her ears and head. She clapped her hands over her ears quickly, but it was to no avail. The pain was unbearable, and she could feel herself crying out in pain, but she couldn’t hear it.

There was a muted thudding that cut through the ringing in her ears, and she opened her eyes. Blinking several times, she saw that the hallway was filled with smoke, and every few seconds there was a flash of light as someone shot their gun.

Arcadia panicked, thinking of Cane. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to sit up and get moving.

Again, her body immediately responded, and the ringing cleared.

Not taking a moment to even think about it, Arcadia was on her feet and she drew out her gun. She aimed at whatever was hostile and pulled the trigger. Several bodies dropped. Suddenly, she was hit from the side, and her body was slammed against the wall.

She grunted in pain, and the gun in her hands was ripped away. A fist connected with her face, and she saw stars. She managed to block the next strike, using the leverage of the wall to push off with her hips forward against her attacker. They struggled for dominance, hitting and grasping at what they could. Finally, Arcadia managed to get a slight advantage on her attacker, which led to her flipping them over her onto the ground. Reaching to grab one of her knives, she pulled it out and plunged it into the chest of her attacker.

Someone grabbed her from behind and pulled her up off of the body, and tried to wrestle her to the ground. She squirmed violently, and twisted out of the grip of the new attacker. Her face hurt, and she was already out of breath, but she knew she had to keep fighting.

Where there’s enemies, you’re in the right place.

Twisting around again, she grabbed the arm of the attack and pulled it out straight before ramming her fingers in between the joint, rendering the arm completely immobile. Grabbing the man’s head, she quickly twisted it and broke it. The man fell onto the ground dead.

Breathing harshly, Arcadia scanned for other attackers but found none. There were several more guards, dead on the ground, but Cane was nowhere to be seen.

“Cane!” she yelled.

The air was still fairly smoky from the blast, and some of the walls were damaged from the impact. She stumbled around a bit to try and find Cane.

Her stomach dropped when she saw a mess of dirty blond hair peeking out from beneath a body. Running over to it, she grabbed the body and pulled.

Cane was lying under the body, not moving. Arcadia quickly assessed him and saw that he was shot in the abdomen, and he was unconscious, but thankfully alive. She placed her hands on him and began Stitching, although there was only so much she could do in the time that they had.

As the she pushed her Stitching, Cane woke up and gasped.

“Welcome back,” she said, breathing heavily.

Cane grabbed her hands and pulled them away from himself. “Stop. You need your energy.”

“You’re shot,” she countered.

“And you’ve closed most of it,” he replied. “Don’t worry. Dealt with worse.”

Arcadia looked back at the door that the guards had come out of. “Guess this is the right door?”

Cane followed her gaze, “I think so.”

Standing shakily, Arcadia helped Cane to stand as well. Together, they took out their guns from their thigh holsters and made their way into the room.

Inside it was a laboratory of some kind, one that had several monitors surveying several subjects at once. There was a man wearing a white lab coat, standing at the end of one of the tables with his hands in the air. He did not look happy.

“Where’s Dannick Myett,” Arcadia demanded as she trained her gun on the man.

“You’ll all be put to death for treason,” the man said, the anger in his voice evident.

“Where’s Dannick Myett,” she repeated.

“The General will not stand for it!” the man shouted.

Cane trained his gun on the man, and then lowered it and shot the man in the foot. The man dropped with a cry of anguish. The two Evolved approached him slowly, having to remorse.

Arcadia took a few more steps forwards and placed the gun on the man’s head, “Where’s Dannick Myett.” Her eyes burned with fury.

The man gasped through the pain, sweat beginning to drop off his face from fear and shock. His eyes flicked to a door behind him. “There,” he grunted.

Arcadia took the gun away from the man’s head and made her way towards the door. But before she could open it, the man spoke again, his voice filled with pain.

“You free him, you are ending humanity as we know it. We are on the brink of extinction, and we need him to navigate through what’s left of our world.”

Arcadia’s grip on her gun tightened, her knuckles turning white in her anger, “If that’s the price of freedom from this hell, so be it,” she said, her voice thick with anger and fear.

Turning back towards the man, she raised her gun and pulled the trigger. His gasps of pain silenced as he slumped against the wall. Blood pooled from his mouth, his eyes remaining open in shock.

Cane stood back, keeping a watch on the door in case more guards showed up. But he took a moment to look at Arcadia. They knew this part wasn’t going to be easy either, but he understood why she needed to do this alone.

Swallowing hard, Arcadia moved back to the door. She pressed a button on the side panel beside the door, and she waited as it slid open. Slowly, she stepped through.

She stood stock still as she looked at the person in the room. So many emotions were running through her head that she couldn’t think clearly. So much so, that she couldn’t immediately tell that anything was wrong.

Dannick was standing in the middle of the room, enclosed within a glass prison. Parts of the walls were make of high tech screens, which he was watching painstakingly.

“Hello Arcadia,” he said just loud enough for her to hear.

Arcadia stilled. Her mouth went dry and her lungs ached. She felt nauseated, so much so that she couldn’t move without possibly throwing up.

“Long time,” Dannick spoke again, still in the same tone of voice.

Gasping a small breath, something inside Arcadia snapped. Slowly, she raised her gun and pointed it at Dannick.

“Who, the fuck, are you, and what have you done to Dannick?”

Dannick flicked his gaze away from the screens towards Arcadia. Her hands shook slightly as his eyes settled on her. The sick feeling in her stomach grew as he took a step towards her, turning to face her completely. She watched him move, but not like the Dannick she knew. This was different. He was different.

Forcing herself to meet his gaze, she waited for him to speak.

He smiled at her. A wicked, sly grin that sent a shiver down her spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for those who like to have music playing when some scenes play out, I have a few that I played on repeat during the moments leading up to the fighting, including going from base to base and in the compound itself. 
> 
> Mind Game Part 2 - Steve Jablonsky, who scored Ender's Game.  
Enemy Planet - Steve Jablonsky  
The Mall - John Paesano, who scored the Maze Runner series. This one is from The Scorch Trials.   
We Are Gods - Audiomachine. Black Widow's final trailer theme. Holy fucking shit, it is immaculate!!


	24. The Blue Eyed Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What do you do when the person you are trying to rescue isn't there? What happens, against everything, when the person you are trying to reach isn't the same anymore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So......... I'm late posting again.......
> 
> I'm sorry..... BUT Here is the next chapter!!
> 
> Thank you kindly,

Arcadia forced herself to still her shaking hands as she pointed the gun at Dannick. Or, at least, the body of Dannick. Swallowing hard, she raised the gun a bit higher, keeping her aim true.

“Who are you,” she asked, her voice cold and hard.

Dannick’s smile only grew as he took two more steps forward. “Well done. I mean, it’s incredible that even after so many years apart, you could tell the instant you saw him, that something was wrong.” Dannick crossed his arms and sighed. “Not many can tell so quickly, but of course, you _are_ a Stitcher, so I guess that gives you an advantage.”

“Who. Are. You.” Arcadia could feel the anger growing in the pit of her stomach as the person continued to speak in Dannick’s voice.

“I’m a Controller,” Dannick said.

Arcadia’s entire body went rigid, “Fucking parasite!” she hissed.

Dannick looked offended, placing a hand on his chest as if in pain, “That is such an derogatory word. Controllers aren’t _parasites_,” he said the word like it was a bitter taste in his mouth. “We make decisions for people when they can’t make them themselves.”

“Take their free will.”

Dannick tilted his head, “I mean, when it’s necessary for the greater good. But not always.” His eyes turned hard as he looked at Arcadia, “You make it seem like I’m a monster.” His voice dropped, and it sent a shiver down Arcadia’s spine.

“Parasites are monsters. You feed on your hosts until there’s nothing left!” Arcadia tried to keep her voice level, but the anger and fear was now seeping into every part of her body.

She trained the gun with more accuracy, “Let him go. Now.”

Dannick shook his head, “No can do. You see, with Dannick’s gift, it is finally possible to detect where and when our threats make their moves. It gives the advantage to make sure humanity lives on.” He moved silently in the glass box. “Don’t you want that for your people?”

“Not if it costs them their freedom.”

Dannick laughed, but it was wrong and piercing to her ears. “Freedom? We have no freedom here!” He yelled, finally showing some emotion other than smugness. “Stuck under ground, stuck on a dying world!” He paced a bit more, “How can you call that freedom?”

Arcadia stared, as she had no response. There was no freedom in her world. Forced to abide by the laws of an unfair nature. Forced to abide even more constricting laws of the government. The physical aspect of freedom was fleeting and irrelevant in a world that _was_ dying.

Taking a deep breath, Arcadia refocused, “Their freedom to think for themselves.”

Dannick laughed, “People don’t actually think for themselves. Be serious, Arcadia.”

Arcadia’s eyes narrowed as Dannick sauntered over to one of the walls and brought up a screen with keys. He began to type something, his eyes slightly unfocused as he did so. She knew that look, and that’s when she realized that Dannick was having a vision. It looked as though that while Dannick was having a vision, the parasite was writing it down.

Arcadia took a few steps forward, keeping her gun trained on Dannick. She heard a crackle on her comm, but she quickly turned it off, not wanting to lose her focus on Dannick. She wracked her brain to try and come up with a solution to this problem. She had no idea where the Parasite was, or how they were actually controlling Dannick.

Controllers were vile people. They took pleasure and glee from rendering their hosts into nothing, empty shells of their previous life. With enough time, the Parasite would gain enough power of the body, that they could literally transfer their consciousness into that body, while taking on their abilities, if said body was Evolved. Arcadia had only seen it one other time in her life, and it had not ended well.

Before she managed to reach the glass box, Dannick shook himself back into the present. There was a flicker of recognition in his deep brown eyes, before they glazed over, turning a bright blue.

“My, he’s a feisty one!” the Parasite said, as he bounced on his toes. “He hasn’t been this rambunctious in a long time.”

“Give him back, and I promise to kill you quickly,” Arcadia said fiercely.

The Parasite chuckled, “As if I’m going to give him up. His power is too important. And, apparently, highly illuminating when he thinks about you.”

Fear trickled into her mind. “What are you talking about?”

The Parasite smiled, making Arcadia feel sick to her stomach. He turned to the screen and began to read aloud.

“Based on the trajectory of this event, Arcadia Hark will managed to escape with subject SC-978, aka Dannick Myett. Their destination is across the Expanse into No Man’s Land, where Arcadia and a freed Dannick disappear.”

Arcadia could feel her body begin to shake with fear as the Parasite turned slightly towards, grinning wickedly as he did. He moved back to continue reading.

“Since Dannick will be accompanying her, a vision arose of a place of green, with large stones surrounding them. The sky looks blue, and the world seems healthy. Vision fades as Dannick looks to Arcadia, who smiles at him.” The Parasite ended the vision statement and turned to face Arcadia once more.

Arcadia’s heart was beating painfully in her chest. Dannick had seen the past. He had seen where she was going back to. And he had been part of it. But now, with the Parasite having knowledge of that, the event would more than likely change, and not for the better. She could feel tears threatening behind her eyes, but she forced them to stay.

The Parasite tilted his head to the side, observing her. “Now, tell me. Where is this place?”

His voice sounded intrigued and genuinely curious about its location, which meant that he had no idea it was in the past. Arcadia willed herself not to lash out, giving away her love for the place.

“Leave Dannick’s body, and you’ll find out,” Arcadia offered, with no intention of actually letting the Parasite live.

The Parasite tutted, “We both know that’s not going to happen.” He walked toward the glass wall closest to Arcadia and leaned a hand against it. “Where is it?”

Arcadia spat on the glass, right were his face would have been.

The Parasite made a disgusted face, “Ugh, why must you people be so gross? I mean, this is a sterile environment!” He was beginning to sound annoyed, but Arcadia couldn’t tell if it was a bad thing or not.

“Leave Dannick. Now.”

The Parasite was about to speak, but then Dannick began to have another vision. But Arcadia saw on Dannick’s face that the real Dannick was trying to stop the vision from happening, stop it from being shared. She watched with worry as he crumpled to the ground in pain with a sharp gasp. She could see pain receptors in his body flare up all over and she pressed her hands against the glass.

“Dannick! Dann, I’m right here!” Arcadia screamed through the glass.

It was like watching torture. Dannick’s body collapsed on the ground, twitching slightly as he tried to get away from the pain. But when the pain is inside your head, it’s impossible. Arcadia watched helplessly, as there was no door to get in. She stood up quickly and patted around the wall, searching for a way in, but to no avail. Dannick’s cries of pain became harrowing, making Arcadia’s insides ache with need to help him.

Without really thinking, Arcadia stood back a few paces and raised her gun. She shot at three separate points in the wall and watched it crack. She shot another few, and the cracks grew more distinct. Grunting in frustration as Dannick writhed on the floor, she shot more and more into the wall, tearing it down piece by piece.

Finally, the thing shattered, scattering glass everywhere. Arcadia rushed forward to Dannick, who was cut up a bit from the fallen glass.

“Dann! Hold on, I’ve got you!” Arcadia said hurriedly.

She placed her hands on his head and attempted to heal him. A hand grabbed her wrist and she looked down at open brown eyes.

“Don’t,” he managed to gasp.

He held onto her tightly as his body went rigid again, and Arcadia could literally feel his pain. She gasped in pain, panicking inside. Confused by his word, she listened and only held him. She didn’t try to Stitch him.

He thrashed from side to side, but then he suddenly screamed, “Nooo!” His voice was raspy and tired, but as the word died on his lips, his body slumped.

Arcadia held onto him carefully, scared of what was happening. Dannick took a deep breath after what seemed forever and Arcadia held her breath.

Dannick opened his eyes. They were blue.

Arcadia’s heart broke. Dannick had fought, but the Parasite had won. She moved away from the Parasite quickly, although not so quick as to hurt Dannick’s body. The Parasite coughed, which was mixed with a sort of laugh.

“Oh,” he began, “he tried so hard that time.” He pushed himself into a seated position on the floor. “But the thing is, I’ve been inside his head for too long. He’s mine now.” The Parasite said with a sickening grin.

“And another thing,” the Parasite turned his head slowly towards Arcadia, and Arcadia felt her stomach drop.

“Whose Jamie?”

Arcadia’s blood ran cold, and all she saw was red. She knew that something in her had snapped. As she stood there, seething under her calm façade, the Parasite grinned devilishly.

“He looks… odd. Although, obviously important to you, if Dannick is seeing him,” the Parasite said, moving to stand up straight. “I wonder what it would take to find him.”

Arcadia closed her eyes and took a deep breath. There was no way that this Parasite was going anywhere near Jamie, or her sanctuary away from this place. When she opened her eyes again, she noted that the Parasite felt the shift in her presence, and his face visibly paled. He took a step back, but in that moment, Arcadia moved.

She burst forward with one swift motion, colliding with the Parasite and knocking him to the ground. She did so without so much as a grunt, thudding heavily on the floor, cracking the Parasite’s head on the floor. Mentally, she knew that it was Dannick’s head, but in that moment, nothing else mattered.

Wrestling her way to hover above him, she punched his face. Hard. She struck again, but on the third attempt, the Parasite managed to block her and get her off of him. He scrambled away slightly, trying to regain some balance and seek an advantage, but Arcadia was on him faster. She twisted her body from her crouched position and shot out her foot to connect with the Parasite’s face. He grunted in pain and fell to the floor again, on his hands and knees.

Spitting out some blood onto the floor, the Parasite turned to Arcadia with murder in his eyes. Pushing himself up quickly, he took a defensive stance. Without any preamble, Arcadia rushed forward, swatting away his feeble attempt of a punch, before driving her left knee into his gut, making him double over. She grabbed his hair and kneed him in the face, breaking his nose. There was blood on her pants as she moved away, but she kept up the attack.

There was no room for error. No room for gentleness. No room for mercy.

As the Parasite leaned back up to breathe through his mouth, Arcadia punched forward with her left hand, her stance wide and low to provide maximum impact to his diaphragm. She hooked her arm a bit, and punched into his ribs, cracking and fracturing several of them on his right side.

Each hit brought a painful grunt and groan from the man, as he clearly had not expected Arcadia to come at him with such a fury. He cried out as she landed a particularly hard punch to an already cracked rib, breaking completely, but Arcadia didn’t care. She knew what Dannick could take, and she knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum damage to render him immobile.

Soon, the Parasite (and Dannick) couldn’t take anymore, and he collapsed to his knees. Arcadia punched him in the face again, fracturing a cheek bone.

“You will never,” she punched him again, “touch him,” and again. She was breathless from the exertion but her voice was steady and cold.

The Parasite looked up at her as best as he could, given that his eye was already swelling up, and he sucked in a haggard breath, blood dripping from his lips. He was shaking all over as the shock of the trauma done to his body caught up with him, and the adrenaline slowly faded.

She looked at him dead in the eyes, watching those blue eyes flicker with fear.

“Never.”

She punched him one last time, an upper cut to his chin, and the Parasite fell backward, landing on the hard ground unconscious.


	25. Monotonous Living

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Jamie's life after Arcadia left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is another chapter.  
So sorry that it is taking so long. :( 
> 
> Anyway, any suggestions or feedback would be much appreciated. :) 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

He stared into the distance, watching the clouds form and fold as the time passed. The wind had a bit of a chill, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise on end. He curled his hand tighter around his plaid, and pulled it around closer.

Several months had passed since Arcadia had left. She had disappeared at the stones and his whole world had shifted. Not only that magic existed, but the woman he was in love with had left him. He knew he needed to let her go to save her brother, but it did not mean that it did not hurt.

He still had nightmares. Moments of panic whenever they had passed villages known to house redcoats. But worse of all, he could not help but think of the possible danger Arcadia was in… back in her time. It was odd to think of her that way.

Murtagh, Angus, and Rupert had all seen what happened, and how Arcadia had simply disappeared into the air. Not even like a puff of smoke. That lingers in the air for a moment for dispersing. She was just simply gone.

Jamie rubbed at his chest slightly, as the aching became too much.

They had concluded the collection of the rent several weeks back now, only a few after Arcadia had left. They did not know how to explain her disappearance at first, choosing simply to keep quiet for the time being while Jamie healed more. Even now, the reason behind her disappearance is still vague, and Dougal was angrier than before.

It confused Jamie. Dougal had wanted to be rid of Arcadia since she arrived at Leoch, but the moment she had left, he was furious. Jamie could not understand it, and had once tried to weed out the answer. He was met with a hard stare and silence.

Oddly enough, it was young William that missed her the most, aside from himself. The men had begun to pick on him again, and he was sullen more often than not.

Once back at Leoch, Jamie returned to the stables, working with the horses and tending to them. The little blonde lass, Laoghaire, was constantly vying for his attention, but he could not bring himself to reciprocate any. His heart and mind were constant set on Arcadia.

“Oh Mo Nighean Donn,” Jamie muttered to himself as he brushed the back of one of the horses, “where are you?”

So for the next few weeks, that turned into months, Jamie worked on the land, tended the horses, and ate, and drank. He spent time with his friends, participated in large dinners, and did some work with Dougal. Slowly, things became monotonous. Repeating the same thing over and over, just to keep living. Without Arcadia around, he could feel the distinct difference between what his life was with her in it versus before he met her. The spark of inspiration and excitement was dull, verging on non-existent, despite the hard efforts of Laoghaire.

He was still unwillingly working with Dougal for the Jacobite cause, but with the new price on his head, it was harder for Jamie to leave Leoch. He had heard that Black Jack Randall had healed, although his one arm had not healed correctly. Jamie had smirked at the thought. But it also brought about another, more menacing thought. Randall was out for blood now, looking for both Jamie and Arcadia. The price over his head was a good amount of silver that would feed a farmer and his family for a year. And the price over Arcadia’s was about the same, if not more.

As Jamie shoveled food into his mouth without any gusto, he sighed. He was bored, that much he could tell. He would spare with Murtagh later. They were trying to use some of the moves that they had seen Arcadia use at times, and occasionally William would join them. More often than not, they would injure themselves for not doing it correctly, so their attempts were slower and more thought out.

Part of him wished to go back home to Lallybroch, where his sister and her husband where living, even for just a visit. But he knew he could not do that. Redcoats were watching the roads all over Scotland, including the way to his home, so the chances of him slipping by without notice were slim.

But another part wished to go back to the stones, to see if Arcadia had returned. She had told him that it could take a long time before she would return. If she could return. He had promised her to wait, and that he would be there for when she did. He had to believe that she would find her way back. He did not think of what could happen to her in her time. He did not think about her getting hurt, or failing. He only thought of her success and her return.

“Jamie,” a voice spoke, startling him out of his thoughts.

“Hm?” he responded, looking up from his meal.

Murtagh was standing in front of him with a bowl in his hands. He nodded curtly at Jamie, and then sat down across from him.

“Much to do this afternoon?” Jamie asked around another mouthful.

Murtagh shook his head. “Dougal is setting up a hunting party for the morning. He wants you there.”

Jamie frowned a bit as he bit into a tough piece of bread. “Why does he want me?”

Murtagh shrugged, “Why does Dougal do anything? We will just be part of it tomorrow. The kitchen apparently is running low on supplies.”

Jamie nodded and continued to eat his food. Well, at least he had something to look forward to for the next day.

****

It was not a hunting party.

It was a fairly large gathering of men on the outskirts of the Mackenzie lands. Men from all over the neighbouring farms and clans. Jamie was instantly on high alert, and he placed a cap over his head to cover most of his recognizable hair. Although they were still on Mackenzie lands, redcoats could turn up at any moment. Or one of the poorer men could turn him in for some silver.

He watched as Dougal made his way through the throng. Dougal came to stand near the centre of the gathering, casting his gaze around to every man.

“Thank you for coming,” his voice gruffed into the morning air, muted but still loud enough to hear.

“One of our stores have been found,” Dougal continued after a few moments. His tone was angry, and slightly panicked, from what Jamie could tell.

“Guns, supplies, all of it. Taken.” Dougal growled. “Now. There were only a few men who knew of its whereabouts, all of whom are here, standing with us.”

Several men looked around at one another, skeptical and anxious looks on their faces. It hit Jamie then, the reason why these men were here.

There was a traitor in their midst, and Dougal intended to find them.


	26. A Twisted Unconsciousness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Out of the compound, the team deals with new and pressing obstacles. But one thing is clear. The parasite is a problem, and they have to figure out a plan to get Dannick, the real Dannick, back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO SORRY. 
> 
> I weirdly had thought I had updated this, but I guess I forgot to do so, or thought.... honestly, I have no idea. Something just went over my head.   
here is the next chapter, I hope you like and enjoy. :) 
> 
> Thank you kindly,

Getting out of the compound had been just as difficult as breaking in. More guards and soldiers had shown up and set up outside of the building. Thankfully, Arcadia and her teams had prepared for that, especially once Dannick had been secured. Two other teams that had gone elsewhere, doubled back and took the soldiers by surprise. It allowed for not only Arcadia and Cane to get out with Dannick, but other team members to free other subjects of experiments, including Dela’s sister. She was also a Blur, but had had adverse affects of the experiments, and now only managed to run for short spans, rather than long distance, or for a long period of time.

Arcadia looked around their base camp, seeing people greet each other with clasped hands, arms, and bodies in tight hugs. She could feel the heat of jealousy in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t get to have that reunion with Dannick, and a horrible, sinking feeling in her gut told her she might never get the chance. Returning her gaze to the bed beside her, she watched as Dannick’s face twitched and shifted, relaxed one moment and the next hard and tense. She knew there was fight going on, but she couldn’t help him. Not yet.

She pressed her hand to his head, checking his temperature, and hopefully sending him a sense of comfort in his pain. At least, she hoped that Dannick was still in there enough to feel it. She soothed him more and more until he succumbed to the consciousness that protected him from the parasite, as well as them. If the parasite knew where they were, it could communicate with its leaders. Then they would be thoroughly fucked.

“How’s he doing?”

Arcadia turned to see Kam standing on the other side of the bed. She could see the bags under his eyes, still slightly puffy from crying. Arcadia slowly placed her hand on top of Kam’s and gave him a bit of energy, healing his sore eyes, and aching chest, but only a little. It was a pain that she could not fully take away.

Kam looked at her gratefully, twisting his hand to grasp hers.

“He’s fighting, I think. As far as I can tell, Dannick should still be in there. I saw it.” Arcadia stated, although doubt weaseled its way into her mind.

Kam sighed, “I believe he is. Danni’s strong. He always has been.”

Arcadia hummed in agreement, but without conviction.

Despite the dull roar of people moving to and fro, Arcadia found it to be peaceful. She and Kam didn’t speak again, knowing that words were not always needed. After a while, Kam released her hand and left to go back to his computer. But Arcadia continued to watch Dannick, monitoring every twitch, every jerk, soothing him back into oblivion every so often.

****

Arcadia’s head jerked up. A noise had jarred her from her daydream of a certain man. And water. She dreamt of water, lapping over her skin. Cool and calming, a stark contrast to her current living situation. Looking around, there were people frantically rushing around the base.

She was instantly alert, rising to her feet. Sending another shot into Dannick to keep him asleep, she rushed over to Kam and the other Talkers.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’ve been compromised,” Kam replied, his voice strained as he was working several computers simultaneously.

“How?” Arcadia asked, shocked.

“We believe that one of the subjects had been chipped. It must have been missed in the initial sweep.” Another Talker explained, reaching over Kam to help with another screen.

Arcadia paled, “Fuck…” she murmured.

“Fuck is right. We need to evacuate right now. Everyone is working to split and scatter as far and wide as we can, but it’s gonna be tight,” Kam explained. One screen after another quickly blinked out, leaving a black surface that reflected their tired faces. Kam stood up and faced Arcadia. “We need to get Dannick out of here and secure.”

The panic in Arcadia’s chest pounded at the thought of Dannick going back to the lab. Turning, she ran back to Dannick’s bed, grabbing her pack from the wall, double checking its contents.

A gust of wind alerted Arcadia of Dela’s presence. She turned to see the Blur standing the foot of Dannick’s bed.

“Got the chopper ready for him.”

Arcadia nodded once, as she turned back to her pack and fastened it. Shouldering it and snapping the clasp into place across her torso, she reached under the table and grabbed a blanket. She threw the blanket over Dannick, covering his head as well, and tucked in the edges around his body. She then grasped the edges of the bed. With a quick flick, the sides of the bed came off the frame, and it became a portable gurney. Dela grabbed the other side as Arcadia did, and together they lifted Dannick up and carried him out of the base.

It was hot and sweltering outside, the wind dry and biting on her face. She pushed through the pain, glad she had covered Dannick. The sand on the ground worked its way into her boots, into her hair, into her mouth.

They quickly made it to the chopper, where Argo, Fox, and Cane were finishing putting gear into the cargo. Argo saw them and shifted a few things to make way for Dannick’s gurney, and helped lift him up into the chopper.

“There wasn’t a secondary chip on him, right?” Arcadia asked Cane as he rushed by her.

“No chip. I think the parasite was doing a good job of keeping him around,” Cane growled.

Arcadia nodded and jumped into the cabin of the chopper. She looked over Dannick, but he was still in deep. Turning her attention of everyone else, she quickly pressed her hands to each of her team to give them a boost. Everyone was ragged at this point, and having to leave again so suddenly was draining.

Arcadia was also tired, but whenever she felt the ache of fatigue begin to creep on her mind, it was like her body shook it off and she was fine to keep going. She knew she was going to have to sleep at some point, but right now, she was needed and more useful awake.

Within minutes, they were set and lifting up into the air. Harlin piloting the chopper, and Kam in the front with him, pulled them into the sky, and began the long and winding trek to their secure base.

****

“He’ll wake up soon,” Arcadia whispered.

She watched Dannick, Dannick’s body, as he began to stir in his sleep. Arcadia was standing behind a closed and locked door with a small window. The cell would hold Dannick, and the parasite, until they could figure out what to do next.

Cane remained silent for a moment, watching the same man within the room.

“Do you think he will be the one to surface?” he asked quietly.

Arcadia swallowed, “I don’t know.” She took a deep breath. “I hope so.”

But deep in her gut, she knew that the parasite was going to surface first. She knew it had been a risk to keep Dannick under for so long, but it had been necessary. It had taken two days to get to their base, and they needed to make sure they were not going to be tracked. Once they had finally settled into their new base, Arcadia began to slowly bring him out of the mini coma she had put him in.

There were hums of agreement behind her. Argo and Fox were leaning into one another, Kam standing slightly off to the side. For a fleeting moment, Arcadia felt a sense of homecoming, having each of her team being in the same place for the first time in a very long time.

The feeling didn’t last long. Her heart sank as Dannick jerked into full consciousness and blinked his eyes open. Only, they weren’t Dannick’s brown eyes. They were blue.

****

“I’m hungry!” the parasite yelled, banging on the door.

Arcadia gritted her teeth against the noise, her body flinching slightly. For the past few days, the parasite managed to get on the nerves of everyone at the base. Tormenting them with Dannick’s face, hurting Dannick’s body by throwing it against the door and the walls. Already, Arcadia had to knock him out seven times in order to fix broken bones and bruises.

The anger was beginning to swell dangerously within her, making her want to rage out against the parasite. But, of course, she knew that the parasite was wanting that.

It also didn’t provide any information to the questions Cane had asked him. Interrogation never worked on those who were willing to self harm, those who had literally nothing to lose. So, they waited. For three days now, they waited for the parasite to become bored. Boredom lead to bargaining, and that was what Arcadia needed.

“Heeeeellllllloooooooo,” the parasite yelled again, dragging out the word annoyingly.

Arcadia saw out of the corner of her eye Fox lazily pull herself out of the chair she was sitting in, rolling her eyes nearly into the back of her skull. Sauntering over to the long table at the other side of the room, taking her sweet time, she grabbed a pack of nutrition. It was the blandest kind they had. She ripped it open, poured it into a bowl, and walked over to the cell door.

All the while, the parasite was whining and groaning, urging her to move faster. The relief was palpable on its face as she began to walk over to the door.

“Ugh, finally!” the parasite said at the sight, making grabby hands at Fox.

Fox smirked at the parasite, and pulled a spoon out of her pocket. She dipped it into the bowl and took a large scoop out.

“Be satisfied with this, you cunt,” she said smugly, and shoved the bland food into her own mouth.

The parasite frowned. Arcadia could see the pulse of the body pick up in anger, and she saw the tightening of the jaw. Internally, she was pleased with the reaction, as it meant that the parasite was not getting the reaction it had been hoping for. But she schooled her features, focusing back on her work in front of her.

Fox chuckled as she finished the bowl, her one and only ration for the day, and walked up to the door. The opened the hatch designed for food and shoved the bowl inside.

“Lick it up, like a good little parasite,” she said with a lovely twisted smile.

The parasite grimaced and growled as it pushed away from the door. Fox laughed mirthlessly as she took the bowl back. She snapped the hatch closed and licked the bowl herself, savouring each last morsel.

Arcadia’s gaze met Fox’s as she turned around, flattening the bowl as she did. Fox winked at her, which also let Arcadia know that Dannick’s body needed some form of sustenance. Sighing, she put her hands on her knees and pushed herself up from her stool. She walked over to the cell door and opened the hatch again. She gently placed her hands on the ledge and waited.

The parasite with Dannick’s face watched her for a moment, before finally moving forward to stand in front of the door. With twitch of discomfort on his face, the parasite placed his hands on the other side the ledge, not touching Arcadia, but close enough.

Without taking her eyes off of the parasite, Arcadia placed her hands on Dannick’s and fed him energy, replenishing his body of the nutrients he would need. The body sighed gratefully, and closed its eyes.

“You’re very good at that,” the parasite commented.

Arcadia didn’t respond. She released Dannick’s hands and withdrew them from the ledge. She moved to close the hatch when the parasite spoke.

“You know you’re just wasting time here,” it stated.

Arcadia paused for a moment, and glanced up at the face.

“Thinking that you can outwit me. Wait me out.” The parasite tutted. “It’s admirable, but… I have control here, and you aren’t getting him back.”

Pain lanced across Arcadia’s chest, but she didn’t let it show on her face. Sighing slightly, she moved to close the hatch again, but the parasite spoke again, slightly more urgently.

“Arcadia. You don’t realize how important he is to our survival! Let me get him back to work, and you can help us get the world back on track!” The parasite looked at her with pleading eyes, and for a split second, Arcadia felt like he was speaking the truth.

And perhaps he was. But Arcadia couldn’t care any less than she already did.

Snapping the hatch closed finally, she leaned in close to the small window.

“We destroyed our world. Do you really think we deserve to keep going?” Arcadia asked quietly.

The parasite’s eyes widened briefly, before schooling itself. “My, my, you can respond to me. I was beginning to think that we weren’t going to get to talk again,” it teased.

Arcadia stared at it with a bored look on her face. She did not respond.

The parasite huffed a laugh, “Oh come on! Just talk to me about all this, and we can save the world!” the parasite threw its hands out to the sides, gesturing to seemingly, the world.

“What world would we be saving exactly?” she asked. Arcadia could feel her anger growing in her chest.

The parasite chuckled, “We weren’t thinking that the world would come to this, but alas, we cannot predict the future.” It stopped and stared, “Oh wait, yes, He can!” it pointed at its chest. Dannick’s chest.

“The only reason Dannick can scout is because of a genetic mutation. Same with me, and every other evolved there is. As humans, we shouldn’t have needed to.”

Arcadia was beginning to get angrier, and knew that if she didn’t stop soon, she was going to blow.

“Bah, humans were always capable of change, of evolving. It just happened when we needed it the most!” the parasite countered.

Arcadia sighed again, tilting her head back and closing her eyes.

“But of course, you wouldn’t see it that way,” the parasite continued. “Seeing that you’ve already found a way out.”

Arcadia’s heart stilled, and her body went rigid.

The parasite sighed contently, giving Arcadia a lazy smile. “I didn’t forget that little bit of information after you so rudely knocked me unconscious.”

Its words were like ice sliding down her back. She refused to meet its eyes, unwilling to let it see her reaction.

The parasite’s smile turned into a venous smirk. “Yes,” it said, dragging out the word long and annoyingly. “That little slice of heaven. If Dannick saw it in the future, that means we all get to go together!” It shifted its stance a bit and leaned against the door heavily. “Now, the only question is… where have you hid this little pocket?”

As the parasite continued to speak, Arcadia could feel herself shutting down. All the hope she had of getting Dannick back was slipping away. But then the words actually registered in her mind, and she stopped. The parasite didn’t know _where_ the green vision was seen from. Didn’t know _when_. And how could it? Dannick had never been there, and Arcadia had not never made mention of it.

A spark of hope flickered in her chest again. _The parasite didn’t know about Dela’s ability, or how it worked!_ Schooling her expression, Arcadia lifted her face towards the parasite.

“You should get some rest. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

That was all Arcadia said as she turned away from the door and walked out of the room. She could hear the confusion in the parasite’s voice as she walked away, asking and yelling about tomorrow.

****

“Are you sure about this, Arcadia?” Cane asked, his voice low and uncertain.

Arcadia swallowed painfully, her throat constricting at the mere thought of what she needed to do. “We knew the second we realized he was begin controlled that this would have to happen. Soon or later…” she added. Her own rationalization did not help the feeling of utter dread welling up inside her. “Soon or later, I’d have to get it out of him. One way or another.”

“Won’t that kill him?” Argo asked quietly.

Arcadia glanced at Argo, her throat constricting again.

Cane cleared his throat, the only sign that he was equally as nervous as everyone else. “If he does, it means he was already dead.”

The room fell into silence again. Arcadia could feel her lip threaten to quiver violent, but she controlled it quickly with a sharp breath. She averted her gaze from everyone, looking down at the floor, noting the scuff marks and dirt on her boots from years long wear and tear.

“What if it doesn’t die?” Fox whispered, leaning in Argo’s side.

Arcadia lifted her head at the question, not ever daring to hope that it could be the outcome.

“Then we take care of him as best as we can.” Cane stated firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Silence filled the room once more, the agitation climbing.

“You all trust me to do it?” Arcadia asked finally, her voice was tight as she asked the bitter question.

They all looked at Arcadia with sure eyes. They all spoke their affirmation, giving Arcadia a slight warmth in her chest at the trust and faith her team had in her. It grew so powerful in her chest, that tears threatened to fall down her face. She sniffed loudly and threw her head back, forcing the tears back to no avail.

“So why don’t I trust myself?” she whispered.

“Do you honestly think that Dannick would want to live a life with a parasite in his mind?” he asked softly, coming to stand in front of Arcadia.

Arcadia met Cane’s gaze, “No. He wouldn’t,” she mumbled.

“So trust that you know what is best for Dannick, your partner, your Protector.” Cane urged.

Nodding slowly, Arcadia took a deep breath. Looking at everyone in the room, who all nodded back her with encouragement, Arcadia turned to face the door that would lead to the parasite’s room. Cane and Dela followed her as she opened the door and took a step into the room. Breathing shakily, she paused. She could feel Cane looking at her. The pressure of what she was about to do was palpable, and Arcadia wanted to turn back around and flee.

It wasn’t going to be easy. Usually, once a parasite finds a host, they are nearly impossible to extract. Especially without killing the host. Arcadia remembered the one parasite extraction she had witnessed. It had been horrific. The parasite had been vicious, refusing to let go of the host, and the mind of the host was literally shredded. Brain matter had begun to leak out of the head, the host’s pupils fixed and dilated when the Stitcher checked for signs of life afterwards.

She shivered, forcing the memory away. She wasn’t going to let that happen. She believed that her plan would work, it had to. She was the best Stitcher of the century, and she sure wasn’t going to be beat by some fucking parasite. Dannick was a fighter, and Arcadia was going to fight to get him back, one way or another.

Walking into the room, she strode over to the door, looking in through the small window at the prone body on the poor excuse of a cot. As she stood at the door, the presence of Cane and Dela had changed from intense to somewhat comforting. She was still scared shitless, because she knew if she fucked up, Dannick would really be lost to them. Her hands began to shake slightly, but she clenched them tight to stop the movement.

Taking another deep breath, she reached to open the door of the cell.

The parasite whipped its head towards to the movement, and slowly rose into a seated position.

“My, my, three of you today!” the parasite said, putting on a brave smile. But Arcadia could see the strain on its face, on Dannick’s face. It was scared, terrified, and had nowhere to go.

Arcadia turned her head slightly towards Cane, who nodded subtly before moving forward to the parasite.

The parasite backed up a bit, but hit the wall fairly quickly. “What’s happening? Are we moving again?” it asked, hoping to get some information.

Without a word, Cane grasped the parasite’s arms and pinned them down at its side. The parasite struggled uselessly against him, the fear of not knowing what was happening seeping into its face.

“What’s going on? Hark! Tell me, now!” the parasite demanded. It was almost funny, the fear on the face that was once so smug.

Dela quickly zipped up the parasite, catching it off guard, and injected a tranquilizer into its arm.

“Ah! What… wha… wwhh…” the parasite stuttered slowly, before all movement ceased.

Arcadia stepped forward then, leaning down to help Cane get the parasite into position.

“I can’t get you out if you’re knocked out. I need to be able to see you in there.” Arcadia explained softly.

The parasite’s eyes shifted slightly from one side to the other, the only movement capable at the moment.

“I’m going to extract you,” she continued. “The last time I saw this happen, they put the host to sleep, thinking that it would be easier, because of all the thrashing.” Arcadia sighed, “But I think you know that that method was always unsuccessful. So, to stop you from thrashing around, we gave you a paralytic. That way, you’re awake, and I can see you in there, and can get you out without hurting Dannick.”

The parasite moved its eyes wildly from side to side.

Arcadia looked up at Dela, who was finishing up hooking up monitors to the parasite. She had gone to get the equipment was Arcadia had been talking. She was tasked with pulling Arcadia out if Dannick flat-lined, so they could try and restart his heart. Meeting her gaze, Dela nodded when they were ready.

Arcadia then turned to Cane, who was standing near the head of the parasite, arms gently positioning the head. Wordlessly, he stepped away from the cot.

Arcadia took his place, and looked down at the parasite. Looked down at Dannick. Gently placing her hands on either side of its head, Arcadia took another deep, shaking breath.

“I’m coming Dannick,” she whispered, as she closed her eyes.


End file.
